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4
The Spy Company
S»; 1
The Spy
Company
A Story of the Mexican War
By
/
Archibald Clavering Gunter
AUTHOR OF
“MR. BARNES OF NEW YORK,” “ THE CITY OF
; MYSTERY,” ETC.
NEW YORK
THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY
^ 'i . •- o.'?-irjv OF
CONGRESS.
One Copy ReoEivfo
mar gg 1903
OOPVWOMT ENTRY
CLASS OyKXc. No.
COPY A.
Copyright, 1901
by
A. C. GUNTER
All Rights Reserved
Puhlisbedf January^ /9OJ*
CONTENTS
BOOK I
ESTRELLA GODFREY
PAGE
Chapter I. — Saratoga in Eighteen Hundred and Forty-
four 5
“ II. — War With Mexico - - . 23
“ III. — The Captain of Texan Rangers - * 34
“ IV. — The Fight for the Desert Spring - 49
BOOK II
Taylor’s camp at corpus christi
Chapter V, — The March for the Rio Grande - - 64
“ VI. — The Goliad House - - - 75
“ VII. — The Dancing Girl of Matamoras - 88
“ VIII. — “To Save Him, I Spare Her!” - 102
BOOK III
FRONTIER CHIVALRY
Chapter IX. — The Passions of the Prairie - - II9
** X. — The Smugglers’ Trail - - - 135
XI. — The Glory of His Fighting - - 148
4
CONTENTS
BOOK IV
Miss Godfrey’s father
PAGE
Chapter
XII. — “My Dear Daddy” - - _
164
XIII. — The Coming of the Superintendent
*74
€t
XIV. — Sharpe Hampton’s Sweetheart -
190
€t
XV. — A Mighty Suspicion - . -
207
t€
XVI. — Night on the Lone Plantation -
220
BOOK V
BEYOND THE RIO GRANDE
Chapter
XVII. — Florito’s Fandango ...
239
it
XVIII.— The Waif of the Border -
254
it
XIX. — The Spy Company - - «
266
it
XX. — Carmelita’s Return - . -
282
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
BY ARCHIE GUNN
Miss Godfrey at Saratoga, 1 844 - - - Frontispiece
“No Gold from You” - - - - « Page 94
A Knight of the Prairie - - - - “158
Night on the Lone Plantation - - - - <<222
The Defense of the Convent wall - - - 286
THE SPY COMPANY.
BOOK I.
Estrella Godfrey.
CHAPTER I.
SARATOGA IN EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR.
The summer night was falling softly upon Saratoga
when that great watering place was scarce more than
a village embowered in trees ; when most of its present
magnificent avenues 'were pretty turnpike roads and
some only bridle paths; Saratoga when those who
sought its summer retreat came to it leisurely, many of
them by stage-coach, to find recreation in its pleasant
country and health in the living waters of its sparkling
springs; the Saratoga of 1844, before half a dozen
converging railroads had made it part of our rushing,
bustling, frantic, modern world ; a quiet, serene picnic
place only disturbed — by politics.
Even on this placid evening towards the end of
August, though the lights of the big dining room of
the old United States Hotel illuminated the great
fancy dress ball of the season. Democrats and Whigs
clashed as hotly upon the big verandas and tree shaded
pleasance as they did at political joint discussions and
torchlight demonstrations or even in the halls of Con-
gress itself.
(5)
6
THE SPY COMPANY.
The scene was one of great beauty, the grounds of
the hotel being made brilliant with colored lanterns
and the ball-room vivacious by shepherdesses, Italian
peasant girls, vivandieres and “queens of the nigEt',”
who chatted coyly with courtiers, knights and trou-
badours; while bad imitations of Indians, inspired by
brandy smashes and mint juleps uttered their war
whoops in the bar-room or smoked their pipes of peace
on the broad verandas with equally incompetent rep-
resentatives of the trappers of the West and voyageurs
of Canada.
Though the ladies were robed as queens, fairies,
sylphs and maids of honor, and were supposed to ex-
emplify every clime and every century since history
began, still they could not forget they were American
women, and their usual topics of conversation, rides
to the lake, visits to the Indian encampments and even
the all-pervading gossip as to how many glasses were
drunk by each individual at the Congress Spring in
the morning, were sometimes mixed with as excited
annexation discussions as those indulged in by their
cavaliers.
For the hardy band of pioneers, settlers and some-
times even fugitives from justice in the United States
that had gradually, during preceding years, drifted
across the Louisiana border had in 1836 achieved
Texan independence, defeating the Mexican forces
under Santa Anna in the pitched battle of San Jacinto,
and avenging the cruel massacre of Goliad and the
bloody shambles of the Alamo.
For eight years, though recognized by France, Eng-
land and Spain, the young Republic had been in
a quasi state of war with its mother country, Mexico,
a large portion of its plains being raided over by al-
ternate bands of ranchero bandits and Comanche
Indians.
THE SPY COMPANY.
7
Under these circumstances, Texas was in 1844 ap-
plying for annexation to the United States and ad-
mission into the American Union, a thing the Democ-
racy under Mr. Polk were clamorous for, but which
was bitterly assailed by Whigs and other Anti-Slavery
advocates as leading to certain war with Mexico and
the additional political complication of immense ter-
ritorial extension within the slave belt.
Two ladies seated on one of the broad balconies of
the hotel and looking in at the brilliant ball-room em-
phasize this.
“Honor bright, did you really drink six glasses
of Congress water this morning, my dear Mrs. Per-
kins?” whispers Selina Chauncey, the dashing young
wife of an Alabama Representative, robed as the Pom-
padour. ‘T was only able to absorb three, and my
maid had to unlace me right afterwards.” *
This confidence is interrupted by a shiver from
Queen Elizabeth, who on ordinary occasions is Mrs.
Perkins, the spouse of a Whig Senator from Indiana.
She is a prim matron of about fifty, and half shudders :
“Did you ever ! If that awful girl isn’t bringing poli-
tics on her back into the ball-room.”
“No, Madame, you do Miss Godfrey injustice,” re-
plies Selina Chauncey, stoutly. “She is carrying pa-
triotism, not politics, upon her fair shoulders. What
finer idea for a Texan girl than to depict her country-
men’s appeal for the aid of their cousins of the United
States against the bully Mexico.”
“Why, I did not know Miss Godfrey was a Texan,”
says Mrs. Perkins ; “she came here from New York
with Mr. Martin and his family. Clara Martin and
she are like sisters.”
“Oh, mercy! Ain’t you aware she is the greatest
heiress in Texas, that is, if her father’s, old Jim God-
frey’s million acres of bottom land in that country,
8
THE SPY COMPANY.
which is being harried by Mexican bandits and Co-
manche Indians, are ever healthy to live in. Estrella
Larue Godfrey is Texan to the backbone !”
“And has got plenty of frontier boldness, which isn’t
nice in young girls,” criticises the Whig lady. “See, the
crowd are even clapping their hands at her. It’s dis-
graceful !”
“Why shouldn’t they applaud her?” retorts Mrs.
Chauncey, “Miss Godfrey represents the State of
Texas half draped in the American flag, which will
wholly drape it when we Democrats, this autumn,
have elected Mr. Polk, President; Mr. Clay and you
Whigs to the contrary notwithstanding.”
“Never! The American people are not crazy. Mr.
Clay will be triumphantly returned!” cries the other,
stamping her foot, and a political riot might take
place right on the balcony of the hotel between these
two distinguished ladies, did not a young Arkansas
gentleman, who has just strolled out of the bar-room,
ejaculate enthusiastically: “Cock a doodle for Miss
Texas!” and a young American dandy, who has just
returned from European travel, ask laughingly :
“What is Texas?”
At this the two political ladies forget their dispute
in a burst of laughter, especially as old Jupiter Per-
kins, the Whig war horse from Indiana, saunters up
about this time, taps his wife playfully upon the
shoulder and says : “What, Sally, you and Selina quar-
reling again?” Then adjusting his spectacles he adds :
“Over that young lady, I presume. She carries with
her the charm of beauty and the exquisite womanhood
of America, and looks mighty well in the star spangled
banner; but she’s too young to be dragged into poli-
tics. I think I’ll go up and get introduced to the
Republic of Texas.”
“Yes, but don’t you let her beguile you to vote for
THE SP.y COMPANY.
9
the Mexican War,” whispers his wife. “She’s so beau-
tiful, she may make a fool of you, Jupiter.”
This might easily be true, for Saratoga has rarely
seen a prettier picture than was made that evening
by Miss Estrella Larue Godfrey under the brilliant
lights of the United States ball-room.
The girl is in the first budding of young woman-
hood. Her figure, not as yet completely developed, is
perhaps too slight for perfect beauty, but gives prom-
ise of glorious maturity. Her patrician features would
be strangely firm, for one so young, did not the mod-
esty of her eyes make her face seem very soft and
feminine. Embarrassed by the gaze of so many, for
she is attracting almost universal attention, the shrink-
ing diffidence of her pose and movements gives al-
most a pathos to her graceful figure.
Her fancy costume is that of the young Republic
of Texas, a wreath of myrtles upon her brown hair,
a single star of blue upon the white satin corsage of
her robe, but over this a banner of the United States
of the finest silken gauze, crossing her white shoulders,
drapes her nascent bosom like a sash, and girdled
about her lithe waist falls over a floating white, skirt
of shining satin.
It is as if the maid were the little Republic of Texas
appealing for the protection of the powerful Republic
whose inhabitants are of the same blood and same
family against her tyrant Mexico.
Blazoned upon the front of the draping skirt is
“Remember the Alamo !” words that even to-day make
the Yankee heart beat faster at the heroism of the
American race as shown by that little band, whose
names still cause schoolboys’ hearts to thrill when
they hear of Travis, Bowie and Davy Crockett.
Blood is thicker than water, and many who have
opposing political opinions look enthusiastically at the
10
THE SPY COMPANY.
daughter of one of those emigrants that wandered
away from the United States and with rifle and bowie
knife carved out a little nation from haughty Mex-
ico, watering their new country plenteously with their
blood upon the rich bottom lands of the Brazos, Trin-
ity and San Antonio, the sun dried mesas of the Llano
Estacado and the arid wastes of the Rio Grande.
Faltering under this admiration, which is probably
much greater than she had expected, the maiden droops
diffidently, and perhaps would retreat from the bril-
liant illumination of the ball-room to the more dimly-
lighted verandas did not at this moment Clara Mar-
tin, a dashing, direct-speaking New York girl dressed
as a vivandiere, come tripping up to her, and swinging
the canteen she carries over her shoulder, cry laugh-
ingly : “Take a swig from my canteen and brace up,
Strella. Here’s a chance to make a hit for your Lone
Star country. Let me present to you the Honorable
Jupiter Perkins, the Whig war horse. Convert him,
my dear, to Texan annexation !”
Whereupon the bashful look flies out of Miss God-
frey’s face, her beautiful brown eyes beam like the em-
blem of her native land. She glances at the Sena-
tor from Indiana, and proceeds to do the best she
can with the old Whig war horse, saying with charm-
ing naivete : “Wouldn’t you like me for a country-
woman, Mr. Perkins?”
“Do coons like posSum?” laughs the Senator, adding
to this proverb of the Mississippi Valley: “Judging
by the looks of the boys about you, I imagine you can
become a citizeness of the United States, Miss Godfrey,
as soon as a parson can be procured and without the
annexation of the State of Texas.”
Though the girl blushes painfully, she cries deter-
minedly: “A flank attack is not fair, Mr. Senator,”
and inspired by the thoughts of her distant country,
THE SPY COMPANY.
1 1
this eleve in diplomacy dares to assault the politics of
the veteran statesman; of course without effect. Old
Jupe Perkins has not been thirty years a dyed-in-
the-wool Whig of the Clay- Webster stripe, to be con-
verted by two pretty lips, though the animation of the
interview adds the vivacity of many changing emotions
to the exquisite features of the young proselyter.
Finally the veteran politician, growing perhaps tired
of being almost lectured by this adolescent Hypatia,
answers her in the pleasant condescension of age for
youth. “My dear child, permit me to tell you that like
most Democrats you are all abroad on the subject of
slave extension, upon which you are making a very
pretty stump speech.”
“Child ! I am eighteen !” cries the girl, indignantly.
“Know nothing of the subject? I was born in Texas,
sir!”
“Yes, born in Texas, but sent from there when al-
most a baby, I believe. Your friend of friends, that
pert little vivandiere, Clara Martin, before she intro-
duced me to you, let that cat out of the bag. Miss
Yancy’s Boarding School on West Eighth Street, I
reckon also, isn’t exactly the place to study one of
the greatest political questions of the age. If Mr.
Polk and Mr. Calhoun couldn’t convert me, I hardly
think you can, though ” The Senator palliates his
remark by adding: “You talk much prettier than old
James Knox P. of North Carolina.”
“You’re right! I was sent from Texas to save me
from the dangers of its wild life after my dear little
sister had been stolen by Indians or bandits,” answers
Miss Godfrey, her bright face growing strangely sad.
“That’s what was told, me by my mother, who came
with me, and died here when I was a very little girl,
leaving me alone, save for the kindness of Clara Martin
and her father, for my father has not been able to visit
12
THE SPY COMPANY.
me. He has been fighting in the War of Texan In-
dependence, and since then has been defending his
property against the raids of partisans, bandits and
Comanches. You’re right, Mr. Perkins, I know very
little of the subject except from my dear father’s fit-
ters to a child who petitions you to induce your great
country to take such action as will permit him to recall
his daughter to his roof-tree protected by a flag suffi-
ciently powerful to make his home safe both from
Mexican forays and Indian ravages.”
This speech, made pathetic by a bewitching face
whose eyes are tearily beseeching, strangely affects the
old Whig war horse. He mutters huskily : '‘You have
said more to me in the last few words, my dear young
lady, than any other Democratic stump speaker in
the country. I will consider your appeal.”
But even as Estrella gives him a bright, grateful
glance, the veteran of New World affairs starts, gazes
searchingly at her, and becomes strangely moved and
interested. His eyes are fixed upon a plain circlet of
gold that is pinned upon the corsage of her dress.
Noting his glance, she says : “Oh, you are gazing
at the golden circle ! Strange, several gentlemen have
been interested in it this evening. What makes you re-
gard so curiously a bauble which my mother brought
with her from Texas, and told me my father used to
wear? It is the only thing I have to remember him
by.”
“My dear child,” says the veteran statesman, quite
moved, “to explain what that means would be beyond
my power, because I only guess at it myself. There-
fore I shall not cloud your bright young brow with con-
jectures. What you want to do this evening is to give
the boys a chance and turn your attention to love, at
which you’ll be even cuter than politics !”
At this suggestion, the young lady blushes vividly;
THE SPY COMPANY.
^3
then a troubled look comes upon her innocent features,
she hangs her head.
“Hello ! By the confusion on your face, you’ve been
at it already !” grins the Solon.
This insinuation Miss Estrella, with quick feminine
tact and precocious astuteness, parries by opening her
bright eyes and saying naively: “Law, Senator Per-
kins, I haven’t left boarding school ! I am only eigh-
teen.”
“Humph, a girl of your eyes can do a good deal of
damage at that age,” chuckles the Western war horse.
But getting away from the Texan Hypatia, he mutters
to himself grimly: “Her dad went to Texas wearing
one of those tarnation golden circles. By the Etarnal,
is the curse started by the ambition of that schemer
Aaron Burr never to be lifted from us ?”
Sitting upon the balcony of the hotel, the Western
statesman goes into a meditation, refusing glumly all
invitations to liquor from kindred statesmen in so ab-
stracted and morose a manner that Quigley of Illinois
whispers to Buncombe of Ohio: “I wonder if. the
great Perkins is afraid of losing his seat in the Senate
at the coming general election.”
“Can’t tell,” remarks Congressman Buncombe. “It’s
going to be a tarnation hard fight and Polk may become
President on this Texas enthusiasm. ‘Remember the
Alamo’ is getting to be a war cry that stampedes Whigs
during this campaign as it did Greasers down at
San Jacinto. Just look at that girl there in the ball-
room. With that tarnation catchy political riggin’ and
those languishing bright eyes of hers, she’d be as good
as a thousand votes to the Democratic ticket if the
polls were open to-morrow at Saratoga. Do you see
her? Look at the young fellows prancing about her
like bears round honey.”
“Some of them will get bee’s stings from her brighl
14
THE SPY COMPANY.
eyes if they don’t hold their horses,” guffaws Quigley,
who represents the First Congressional District of
Illinois and is considered rather a wag in the House.
Quigley is pretty near right in his divination. Mr.
Senator Perkins has shot very close to the bull’s-eye
when he twitted Miss Estrella Larue Godfrey as to her
love affairs. Her eighteen-year-old eyes have done al-
ready considerable damage to half a score of admirers,
but more especially to young Charley Pelham of New
York, just graduated from West Point and gazetted
into the Second Dragoons, and Mr. Jasper Carew
Moncton, who is reputed at '‘The Springs” to be a
Louisiana planter.
Accompanied by his mother, who dotes upon him, a
beautiful lady of middle age, the first of these is in
Saratoga enjoying his two months’ leave before enter-
ing active duty. The second, Mr. Moncton, has ap-
parently no object except pleasure at the Springs.
Mr. Pelham being engaged in escorting his mother
to her room and bidding her a tender good night, has
left the field, for the moment, open to his rival, and
Jasper Moncton is taking advantage of it.
Dressed in the clawhammer coat of deep rolled
collar, embossed velvet vest, tight fitting trousers
spread out over patent leather pumps, and with an
elaborate black stock, which indicate the extreme of
a beau’s evening costume of that period, this gentle-
man, who is about thirty years of age, is now at Miss
Godfrey’s side.
He has an active, well proportioned figure and a
bearing marked by a quick confidence and self-asser-
tion. His face would be prepossessing and his dark
eyes engaging, were it not for their extraordinary
alertness, his glances at times being so rapid that their
expression can scarcely be distinguished. These at
present, however, are fixed upon Miss Godfrey. The
THE SPY COMPANY.
15
gentleman’s manner is unusually suave, yet extremely
confident, and his eager attentions to Estrella rather
pleasing to the vanity of one who is still a school girl.
Mr. Moncton’s devotion to the object of his pursuit
for the past few weeks has been so marked that the
more casual admirers about Miss Godfrey this evening,
concluding that she favors him over the common herd,
have gradually left them to their own society. Relieved
of witnesses, a curious possession has entered the
gentleman’s bearing. Even very young girls have in-
stinct in these matters, and Moncton’s passion is now
sufficiently marked to cause Estrella to grow nervous
and more distant in her manner.
But Jasper Moncton is not to be easily repulsed or
shaken off by one he deems scarce more than a child.
Though he has in their two months’ acquaintance re-
ceived no real encouragement from Miss Estrella God-
frey, save the bright glances of happy maidenhood, he
is stimulated perhaps more by her indifference than he
would be by her complaisance. And in the last few
days the gentleman has grown very j ealous of her.
Young Charley Pelham, with his dashing military
West Point air, boyish enthusiasm and open heart, has
gazed so ardently with his brilliant eyes that Moncton
fears that if he does not speak now, the ardent officer
will have his say to beauty before him.
Therefore with considerable tact and a certain easy,
take-it-for-granted manner, he shortly succeeds in
leading the young heiress of Texas lands to a secluded
nook on the big piazza which a lot of shrubbery and
flag decorations have cut off from the better lighted
part of the hotel, making just the sort of temple a man
can worship his goddess in — if she will let him.
Tired with her political propaganda. Miss Godfrev
sinks rather languidly into a seat ; then delights her ad-
mirer by murmuring : 'T am glad converting old Sen-
i6
THE SPY COMPANY.
ator Perkins is over. From now on I am going to for-
get politics and have a pleasant evening.”
“Thank you,” says the gentleman very ardently.
Encouraged by the compliment, though the girl means
nothing by it, he seats himself by her side and begins a
tale that always frightens a true daughter of Eve when
she for the first time in her young life hears it. Aside
from a maid’s bashfulness, the primal knowledge that
she has a man’s life in her keeping, a man’s career in her
hand to take or to throw away, awes any thinking de-
butante in the mysteries of Venus’s Temple, and Miss
Estrella Godfrey is much frightened. The impetuous
fervor of her suitor at first stuns her as well as alarms
her. She is so dazed she has nearly been kissed and
called his own before she recovers sentiency sufficient
to shrink from his clasp and say: “Stop! You —
you have misunderstood my silence.”
“Misunderstood you?” mutters Moncton as if
stunned himself. “No, no, I cannot have misunder-
stood you. In the last few blessed weeks, you have
permitted me to ride with you so often — you have ”
“But always with Clara cantering along on the other
side of me,” stammers the neophyte in flirtation.
“You have looked upon me.”
“But only as a friend. Besides,” the maid adds dis-
ingenuously, “Mr. Martin would never permit my be-
ing wooed without the consent of my father.”
But to her astonishment, this mention of her father
adds to Moncton’s confidence. Jasper says in easy
assertion: “Your father, I am certain, were he here,
would add his commands to my entreaties.”
“Impossible!” cries Miss Godfrey, astounded. “My
father is in Texas, at the other end of the world. Be-
sides, he would never coerce me on such a subject,
though I never could say yes without his blessing.”
Noting that assurance does not aid his suit, Mr.
THE SPY COMPANY.
17
Moncton pleads earnestly : ^ ‘You cannot mean to re-
fuse a love like mine.”
“But I do mean to refuse it.” Then the girl whis-
pers penitently : “Forgive me, I don’t wish to be
harsh in my rejection, but I’m only a school-girl. 1
have never been proposed to before. Take pity on me
— don’t be angry with me.”
“Angry with you ?” Hope flies again into the man’s
eyes. “Angry with you? That’s impossible, Estrella.”
Again the moustache is coming closer to the tempt-
ing lips. The gentleman’s arm is almost about the
slight waist, when womanhood triumphs over imma-
turity, and the girl desperately pulls herself from him
and says sternly : “Don’t mistake kindness for any-
thing else, Sir. If I must make it plain to you, I — I
do not love you.”
“You — you love another?” Moncton’s eyes have
grown sinster, even baneful.
“Oh, no,” sighs the interrogated one, “I — I hope not
—I ”
“Ah, then you do love another !”
“I — I don’t know anything about it,” answers Miss
Godfrey petulantly. She is scarce more than a child,
and this dominant man’s persistency annoys her. “But
I tell you I can never love you.”
“But you will marry me!” answers the wooer com-
mandingly; the plain golden circle pinned upon the
damsel’s bosom seeming to lend confidence to his
tones. “By that little sign upon your breast which you
do not understand but I do, I tell you I shall make the
winning of you the object of my life. My child, you
are as surely mine as if the priest had said man and
wife to you and me I” His blazing eyes enforce his fer-
vid words.
Under the possessive passion of his glances, the girl
i8
THE SPY COMPANY.
grows crimson to her shoulders ?nd cries indignantly :
“When you look at .me like that, I — I hate you !”
Stung by her words and made carelessly vindictive
by her scorn, he retorts sneeringly yet arrogantly:
“You are a little crude yet. I am in no hurry. A year
or two and you will be the riper cherry for the pluck-
ing, little one. Good-bye! Every time you think of
your father, remember you are as surely mine as if you
had said yes instead of no. Look on the golden circle
pinned upon your corsage and know it is my wedding
ring !”
“No, no, anything but that!” almost screams the
predicted bride, made frantic by his sneering and as-
tounding words; but he, not answering her, saunters
away in affected nonchalance, carelessly pausing as he
passes through the potted palm trees to light a cigar.
Alone, Miss Godfrey takes three short breaths and
gasps mentally: “Thank God, this dastard’s anger
unmasked him. And he has the assurance to say my
father would support his suit!” she jeers. “Half an
hour ago I thought him a passingly pleasant gentle-
man, but was indifferent to him. Now I know Mr.
Moncton, I despise him, I loathe him. I could never
love him.” Agitated by both rage and shame, she
sinks into a seat again, communes tremblingly with her
fair self, and finally enunciates to herself this curious
proposition : “Strange, the knowledge given me by
this wretch’s audacious assault not only on my heart
but on my very modesty has made me doubt whether I
could love any man.”
Her meditations are broken in upon by a young,
liquid but savage feminine voice which says in un-
compromising familiarity: “Strella, you wretch, come
with me to papa at once. You have got me in an
awful scrape. We are both to be sent back to boarding
school to-morrow.”
THE SPY COMPANY. 19
Miss Clara Martin is standing beside her, looking as
distressed as if she were a real vivandiere of the grand
army of Napoleon reflecting on Waterloo.
“How have I got you into a scrape, Clara, dear?”
asks Miss Godfrey sweetly.
“How? By permitting the attentions of that hor-
rible Mr. Moncton. Pa has found out about him;
says he is nothing more than a Mississippi River
gambler. And then going into seclusion and sitting
with him here till half the women in the hotel are tear-
ing you in pieces with their tongues.”
“You are right ! I do deserve to be sent back to
boarding school for letting that wretch tell me whether
I like or no that he will marry me,” shudders the ac-
cused one impulsively.
“Yes, but you’re not right in getting me sent back
also when I was having such a lovely time. Good
heavens! How shall I tell poor Jack Boulder ? He and
I were going to have a tete-a-tete picnic out on the
lake to-morrow,” mutters Clara. “Anyway, you’re
punished also. Young fiery eyed Pelham of the
Dragoons won’t have a chance to make love to you any
more.”
“I hope he won’t,” says Estrella sadly. “I hope no
man will, for now I know I shall never love any man.”
At this pessimistic declaration, Miss Clara Martin,
who is a dashing brunette of the most vivacious type,
slightly more matured than her friend, laughs :
“Idiot! When you love, you will be spoonier than I
can be;” then cries: “But come on. Pa has given his
orders. Zelma has half packed your trunks already
and Elise is now at work on mine,” adding philosophi-
cally : “Anyway, summer is nearly over, and if I had
stayed here much longer, that crazy Jack Boulder
would have made a fool of either himself or me.”
With this. Miss Martin goes away humming quite
cheerfully “Wait for the Wagon.”
20
THE SPY COMPANY.
Miss Godfrey would follow her chum to her
guardian, did not a handsome young fellow in accurate
evening dress but with that indescribable set up and
military bearing that West Point always gives to its
graduates stop her for a few hurried words. “I was
detained by my mother, who is not very well this even-
ing, Miss Estrella,” he says quite tenderly and almost
apologetically. ‘‘But now ”
“Now I am going to pack my trunks,” answers the
young lady, slightly agitated at his fervid eyes. To
refuse two men in one evening would be too much for
her inexperienced nerves, and Charley Pelham is a
gentleman she not only respects but likes very much.
“Pack your trunks?” falters the young man, as if
he does not understand.
“Yes, I am going to be sent back to school to-mor-
row. A big dragoon like you fighting Indians on the
plains will soon forget a fledgling, and from now on I
have got to think of French, music and grammar, or
Miss Yancy will haul me over the coals.”
Cadet hops and West Point flirtations have given
Charley Pelham a fairly shrewd insight into the emo-
tions and characteristics of girlhood. He divines what
a terrible effort it must be for sweet eighteen to dub
herself a child. He appreciates the sacrifice the pretty
lips are making to prevent his speaking words that will
call for a woman’s answer. He looks at her piercingly
for a moment ; then sighs : “I — I fear I understand
you. Good-bye!” next says hoarsely: “But just one
souvenir of a sweet two months.” Before she can stay
him he has torn a portion of the American flag from
her costume.
“Some day I will bring this back to you; some day
when you are a woman,” he mutters, and kisses the
token.
THE SPY COMPANY.
21
Just for one moment she turns and whispers : “But
forgive the child !” then flits from him.
Gazing after her till her graceful figure grows dim in
the vista of the great veranda whose lights are still
shining brilliantly on fair women and brave men, Pel-
ham puts his hand to his heart and mutters to himself :
“Child as she is, had she but loved me, she would have
cried with every breath to me: ‘Woman! Woman!
Woman I’ ”
Then the gay scene seems very gloomy to the
young West Pointer, and the sweet music of the Siren
Waltzes played by the Boston Orchestra appears very
poor melody and full of discords.
As for the man whose audacious prophecy and un-
controlled passion has brought about not only his own
undoing but his rival’s; he had long ago wandered
away and joined some friends in the bar-room. Drink-
ing did not make him forget, and smoking moodily
during the long summer night, Jasper Moncton held
consultation with himself. Once he mentally exclaims :
“I was a little foolish to let my temper run away with
me; but just as sure as no horse can trot in 2 :20,* that
little saucy puss shall call me husband and fawn upon
me for a caress. What Jasper Moncton wants, he
has I”
The charming girl’s piquant rejection of this sport-
ing man of the South and West, both sections rather
barbaric in the early forties, makes him desire her all
the more; not that Jasper Moncton loves Estrella
Godfrey, but he is determined to have the butter-
fly that he is chasing. Miss Godfrey’s Texas lands
will be worth a lot of money when the flag of the
United States floats over them. Glancing at a little in-
*At that time Flora Temple had not trotted her mile in
2:19-14:, and the trotting record of 2:20 was regarded an impos-
sibility.—
22
THE SPY COM PAH y.
signia he wears upon his breast, he thinks : “As
Knight of the Golden Circle, I know this will come very
soon.’’ For his information as an officer of that mys-
terious yet baneful society, whose branches spread out
from New Orleans over the South and West* tells him
* This mysterious society, “The Knights of the Golden
Circle,” was supposed by many to have been an off-shoot from
the secret organization brought together by Aaron Burr,
which resulted in the trial of that ambitious politician for
treason in 1807.
Though known to many, it was whispered of by few. It
was supposed to be devoted not only to the extension of slav-
ery, but to the forming of an immense slave empire that
should include the Isles of the West Indies and the vast coun-
try of the Montezumas.
Many of the efforts at slave territorial extension came from
this powerful but silent organization. A great many of the
young drifting adventurers of the United States inspired or
secretly directed by it went to Texas with the object of an-
nexing not only that state but all of the Mexican Confederacy.
At the triumphant close of the Mexican war, when this coun-
try had obtained from its defeated opponent not only Texas
but California, Utah, New Mexico, Arizona and parts of
Colorado and Nevada, it was predicted that the next military
advance would add every foot of Mexican soil to the United
States; of course, as slave states.
The Golden Circle inspired the filibustering expeditions of
Walker in 1856 to Nicaragua; likewise the tragic attempt
upon Sonora made by Californians; also the invasions
in 1848, ’50 and ’51, of Narisse Lopez into Cuba.
It flourished from 1840 to i860 like the Upas tree, giving
out an atmosphere baneful yet intangible, and by its occult
influence had doubtless much to do with the action of many
politicians which brought about the war between the States
and watered this land with the blood of myriads of brave men.
But little has been written about the powerful but mysteri-
ous association; an innate dread of discussing it seemed to
linger over the United States until it and its barbaric object
and ambitious hopes died at Gettysburg when Picket’s im-
mortal charge failed, and the starry banner of the Confederate
States began to fade. — Editor.
THE SPY COMPANY.
23
that the United States is upon the eve of one of its
grand territorial grabs, such as take place every sec-
ond generation, when the great Yankee nation
takes another portion of the world into its embrace and
Uncle Sam tosses a few more stars into the blue firma-
ment of its flag and makes a few more sovereign states
to add to this great American Commonwealth.
Turning this over in his mind, Jasper Moncton re-
marks to himself half laughingly : “Strella’s as
skittish as a filly when she first feels the rope. Reckon
the haughty little beauty would have been more scared
if she guessed why I came up North. Then a blazing
triumph lights up his dark eyes as he mutters these
remarkable words : “Calculate this high society around
here makes her too bumptious to look at a plain river-
boat sporting man. Texas is my gaming-table!”
CHAPTER 11.
WAR WITH MEXICO.
Early in 1846, eighteen months after Miss Godfrey’s
Saratoga adventure, old Alexander Martin, who has
her under his wing, addresses his charge one brisk
February day in the library of his handsome New
York house in University Place. This gentleman is
the head of Martin, Best & Co., very prominent com-
mission merchants of South Street and factors for
Southern planters, the firm doing a large business in
the sugar of Louisiana, the cotton of the Gulf States,
the tar and turpentine of North Carolina, as well as
business with the West Indies, Vera Cruz and Mexico,
and the little budding seaport of Galveston, Texas,
where thev have a small branch office. There is a
24
THE SPY COMPANY.
rather sad glint in his grim, determined, commercial
eyes as he says : “I might as well break the news and
get over with it ’Strella. I have a letter from your
father in which he asks me to send you to Texas/’
‘‘Thank God, at last I shall see my father!” The
girl’s voice rings out true, silvery, hopeful. “Ever
since I left school six months ago I have been waiting,
hoping, praying for his permission to join him.”
“Humph, but you do not know exactly what Texas
is, my dear,” remarks the old merchant. “Even now,
though the United States has taken it under its wing,
it is a debatable land and very rough and tough people
are debating about it. A number of its settlers, as
your mother must have told you, were fugitives from
justice both of the United States and Mexico. There-
fore it has a good many lawless people still among its
inhabitants. You do not know Texas, my child.”
“Don’t I ?” cries the young lady, the ringing tones of
her voice and the flashing of her eyes in charming con-
trast with the delicate lineaments of her patrician face
and the lightness of her graceful figure. “I know it
is the country of the dead heroes of the Alamo and
Goliad and the live ones of San Jacinto. I know it
is the country my dear father fought and bled for under
old Sam Houston ; the country I was born in ; my
country, though I cannot remember it.”
“Very well,” responds the veteran of commerce,
shortly, “when will you be ready to go?”
“Now; to-morrow; any time! The sooner the bet-
ter !” Expectant love and enthusiastic tenderness dim
the girl’s bright eyes ; she murmurs : “My father.
At last, I shall see him and I shall know him !”
“Under these circumstances,” replies the merchant,
putting his hand over his eyes as if anxious to con-
ceal the sadness of parting with this girl he has had
under his charge since the death of her mother, some
THE SPY COMPANY.
25
eight years before this, “you had better tell my daugh-
ter at once, so that you and Clara can get your farewell
tears over as soon as possible. Make the arrangements
and do the shopping I presume a young lady of New
York fashion will find necessary before leav-
ing for a half barbarous land. I presume you will
have a long visit at Mr. Stewart’s marble store, and this
check will be convenient for you.”
“Did my father send all that money for me?” queries
Miss Godfrey, gazing at the piece of paper. “Hasn’t
he always been generous to the child whose face he
cannot remember, to the girl whose eyes might look
upon him and not know him?” This she a moment
after contradicts by ejaculating: “But no, I am sure
some instinct would tell me if I looked on his dear
face !”
“Pish, I’m hardly so certain of that,” dissents old
Martin, who is seated at his desk. “You have no
miniature of your father, not even one of these new
fangled daguerreotypes.”
“Daguerreotypes were not invented when I was
carried away from Texas, and portrait painters would
have hardly been able to take care of their scalps in the
land my mother has described to me. Bowie knives,
rifles and pistols were more in vogue than artists’
paint brushes or pencils in the valleys of the Brazos,
San Antonio and Trinity. You have never seen my
father either, Mr. Martin?” continues the girl. “As
soon as I see him I’ll write you a good long description
of the man who has become by his correspondence your
friend.”
“Humph, yes! Of course, I have never seen Jim
Godfrey,” replies the merchant, “though I have been
his factor since 1836. You know at that time old
John Kissam Horner, who was in the Texas trade, was
your father’s agent, but owing to commercial troubles
2b
THE SPY COiMPANY.
brought about by the Texan revolution, Horner failed
and left New York. Then your father turned his ac-
count over to me by a letter that I could hardly de-
cipher. Though he writes better now, his correspond-
ence is generally pretty terse and to the point.”
“Oh, yes, 1 know,” assents Estrella, “when poor
papa’s hand vvas so frightfully injured in the fight at
Rock Springs he could for six months hardly hold a
pen in it at all, and the few lines he could send my
dear mother seemed so different. Why, even she could
hardly recognize his handwriting. But papa’s words
were just as loving, even when wounded nigh unto
death. I am going to make a very dutiful daughter to
my father for all the sacrifices he has made for me,
giving me plenty of money when money must have
been hard to obtain.”
“Well, it’s hard enough for him to get now, for
the troubles of Texas are not entirely over, my dear,
and it is that which makes me hesitate about sending
you,” mutters the man of affairs.
. "That you shall not do. I must go. I will go. My
father is growing old. He needs a daughter’s hand !”
cries Estrella excitedly.
“And you do not hesitate to give up New York
gaiety and fashion?”
“Not a bit,” answers the girl, self-devotion in her
eyes. “As I sat at the opera last night down at Castle
Garden, I thought of the frivolity of the thing and
longed to be able to do what I consider my duty.”
“But the young men about here, the gay gallants
who ride beside you each day up Harlem Lane; like-
wise the bucks of Bond Street, and the beaux of
Broadway and Washington Square; how about them?
Clara has confessed to me that they are- very engaging.
And with your face and figure!” Martin turns his
old eyes admiringly over the exquisite picture the
THE SPY COMPANY.
27
young lady makes as she stands in graceful pose, one
white hand upon a chair as if uncertain whether to
stay or go, and notes that Miss Godfrey has developed
very beautifully in the last few months.
In addition to a patrician form, whose rounded out-
lines are those of budding womanhood, the young
lady’s face has in its blossoming maturity become full
of an exquisite soul that shines through her bright eyes
right gloriously. She is dressed in the extreme of
fashion of that day, a little Parisian bonnet on her
brown hair, a white shawl of India crepe, the latest
feminine fad, upon her graceful shoulders, and a be-
flounced skirt whose fluffiness indicates the advent of
the crinoline that a few years later is to startle, dismay
and perhaps even allure civilized mankind.
About this time Miss Godfrey looks at the check
again, and being thoroughly womanly, apparently longs
for shopping. She says : “If you don’t wish me any
longer. I’ll go and tell Clara, and we will drive down to
Mr. Stewart’s together. I shall have so much to buy.”
“Don’t take too much. Transportation will be dif-
ficult and the roads quagmires at this season in your
future home.”
“No, but I’ll take enough to make me very present-
able to papa and ”
“And Texan rangers,” chuckles the old gentleman.
Then, as the girl turns to the door, he says suddenly :
“One moment. You will have to go in the Belle of
Georgia, which sails for New Orleans early next week.
Mr. and Mrs. Rodney of Galveston, Texas, are passen-
gers upon it. They are old friends of mine. I have
already spoken to them. They have kindly consented
to take charge of you. From Galveston Mr. Rodney,
who is a merchant there, will arrange your transporta-
tion to either Matagorda or Corpus Christi, where you
will probably be met by your father.”
28
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Corpus Christi? That’s where Taylor’s Army is
now stationed. I know one of the officers in it, Mr.
Pelham of the Dragoons. You recollect him at Sara-
toga,” says Estrella excitedly.
“Yes, but that’s one of the dangers that may come
upon you. The minute Taylor’s Army moves for the
Rio Grande, it means war with Mexico, and that I fear
will happen very soon.”
“Then the quicker I go, the sooner I’ll get to my
father and avoid the dangers of Taylor’s Army. I’ll
speak to Zelma. She will get to packing my trunks at
once.”
“She’d better get to packing her own, too.”
Miss Godfrey is already at the entrance of the room,
when, Mr. Martin’s remark catching her ear, she pauses
and says shortly : “I — I had nearly forgotten Zelma,”
then thinks a moment and continues : “Just a word
about her.” She steps quickly to him, and, apparently
dreading to be overheard, commences to whisper into
the ear of the gentleman who is seated at his desk.
To her the man of commerce listens for a moment, a
look of astonishment spreading over his face. Then
he utters a prolonged whistle and ejaculates: “By
Tippecanoe, you’re an extravagant young lady,” medi-
tates for a second or two, and dissentingly mutters:
“That will be very inconvenient.”
“Oh, please, please ! Mr. Martin, please give her the
opportunity.”
“Very well,” answers old Alexander. “It is difficult
to refuse you anything, especially that you are going
away. Do you think the girl will leave you?”
“Ah, that I am very doubtful about,” whispers the
young lady. “Zelma is devoted to me. Ever since my
mother died, though she has acted as my maid, she has
tried to be more than my mere servant. The parting
THE SPY COMPANY.
29
will be as sad for me as for her. But you must give
her the opportunity.”
“Jupiter, and rob your father of ”
“Hush !” cries Estrella, putting her fingers on his
lips. “Promise!”
“Very well, Miss Wendel Philips,” says the mer-
chant. “Send her to me.”
And Estrella having left him, Alexander Martin
utters a short whistle and half laughs : “I wonder
what my Southern correspondents would say to what
I am going to do now. In fact, it is hardly honest to
old Jim Godfrey himself.” Over this he goes into a
glum meditation, which is broken in upon by a soft and
sonorously musical voice saying: “My mistress tells
me you wish to see me, Sir.”
With a start he looks up and remarks : “Yes, Miss
Godfrey is going to Texas, Zelma.”
“I have already heard that. I am about to pack
our trunks and get ready as soon as possible.”
“You are going with her?”
“Certainly. I — I could never leave her even if I had
the option.”
“You have that option now. You know what your
station and condition will be when you reach Southern
soil.”
“The same as when I left it,” the soft voice answers,
sadly. “I thoroughly understand, but still I cannot
leave my loved mistress. Her mother took me a slave
waif from Louisiana, and by her kindness made me
happy, taught me to read and write, gave me the op-
portunity to educate myself. When she died I prom-
ised to remain with her child.”
As she has been speaking, Mr. Martin has
been looking at the young woman, for she is only
some twenty-six or seven years of age. A pearly trans-
parency of complexion indicates French Creole blood
30
THE SPY COMPANY.
in her delicate face, but the soft languor of 'her
dove-like eyes and the dash of brilliant color in her
cheeks, betray perhaps the slightest tinge of Africa’s
blood. Though this is scarcely perceptible in Zelma the
octoroon, her appearance being that of considerable
refinement and her speech educated. The material of
her frock, a rich but plain black silk, indicates the
indulgence and kindness of her mistress, but its de-
sign and cut suggest her station. Without orna-
ment or trimming it fits glove-like her delicate
yet .Southernly voluptuous figure to the slight waist
and from there falls into a skirt that is cut to sou-
brette length, disclosing to general observation very
handsome ankles clothed in tight white Balbriggan
stockings and pretty feet shod in plain black slippers.
A white maid’s cap is perched upon her glossy,
banded hair, and a maid’s white apron brought high
upon the corsage of her dress slightly conceals the
rounded contours of her figure as it floats in immac-
ulate whiteness down upon the black skirt.
Her dreamy eyes at times light with those gleams
that show the slumbering passion with which a drop
of torrid blood nearly always fires colder Caucasian
streams; though her arms bare to the elbows for the
convenience of service in her mistress’s chamber are
beautifully moulded and of a dazzling, almost ivory,
whiteness.
“Nevertheless, you have the opportunity. A ticket
for the English steamer and proper funds will be
placed quietly in your hands,’’ mutters Martin. “It is
rather curious that I who have sometimes been ac-
cused of having slave ships among my various ven-
tures should do this abolition act. But you must be
aware with your appearance that in some European
countries — France, for instance — you might have a bet-
ter station than the servile one which must always be
THE SPY COMPANY. 3 1
yours in this country, and in the South, if you return
to it, means your absolute slavery.”
“I — 1 have thought of all these things, Sir,” replies
the young woman ; “I have had many opportunities
to run away, but I love Miss Estrella. I cannot let
her go alone to that far country. I know she will
be kind to me as she always has been.” A curious
searching look flies into the octoroon’s eyes. “What
put this idea of defrauding her of my services into your
head?” she queries anxiously.
“She. Her generous heart! Estrella wishes for
your happiness!” answers the merchant.
“Still she cannot wish to leave me !” The girl’s eyes
grow troubled. Hearing a loved step in the hall-
way, she runs out and cries: “Miss Estrella, please
come here to me.” And Miss Godfrey, dressed for
the carriage, coming in, Zelma says to her timidly in
wounded voice: “You — you wish to part with me?
What have I done to displease you?”
“Nothing, dear Zelma!” answers her mistress.
“Only I want to give you a chance in life. In the
South you will be a slave.”
“Yes, but under your protection, dear mistress, no
harm can come to me. I must keep the promise I
have made your mother. It was her wish. Don’t
send me from you when you will need me in that
barbarous country.”
“My mother’s wish,” echoes Estrella, quite tenderly.
To Martin, she adds : “Please write a paper of manu-
mission for Zelma. I’ll sign it.”
“Impossible,” replies the merchant. “This girl is
your father’s slave, not yours.”
“Under these circumstances,” remarks Miss God-
frey, “do you still wish to come with me, Zelma?”
“Yes, dear mistress,” answers the bond-maid, devo-
tion in her eyes.
32
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Then come !” Probably to conceal her emotion, for
she has been deeply moved, the young lady passes from
the room.
Her maid would follow her, but Martin calls her
back. He says: “A word with you,” and gives her
some explanation of the preparations it will be neces-
sary to make for her mistress for her voyage, adding
to this : “I shall write to Mr. Godfrey an explanation
of your devotion to his daughter and the reason you
have accompanied her. Doubtless it will procure you
every consideration at her father’s hands.”
“Thank you. Sir,” answers Zelma gratefully, and
courtesying, respectfully stands waiting for his permis-
sion to leave the room.
But Martin takes out a cigar abstractedly, lights it
and puffs meditatively for a few moments. Then he
says tersely : “Do you think, Zelma, Mr. Godfrey ever
knew his wife bought you in Louisiana after the death
of the maid she had brought with her from Texas?”
“Yes, Sir, I know he did,” answers the young
woman eagerly, “I remember Mrs. Godfrey saying that
he wrote in a letter : ‘Tell Zelma when I come to New
York if she is devoted to you and baby and wants to
marry. I’ll give her her freedom.’ ”
“Humph; and after that?”
“After that my master never wrote anything about
me. But that was after he changed so, after he had
been wounded in the fight at Rock Springs.”
“Changed so? Oh, yes, you mean his writing.”
“No, Sir, not exactly. I think his letters were differ-
ent in spirit or sentiment after that to Mrs. Godfrey.
I know they seemed to trouble her. After receiving
one, she often sighed. Though of course she didn’t
make me her confidant, I imagine she thought her
husband didn’t love her as he had before. Sometimes
I think the sadness caused by these letters rather has-
THE SPY COMPANY.
33
teiied her death. You do not believe Mr. Godfrey's
wound can have affected his head?” asks the young
woman anxiously.
“Not from his letters,” answers the merchant sharp-
ly; “there's as good logical business in them as any
I ever read. You can go, Zelnia. Remember to take
good care of your young mistress on the voyage.” As
the graceful young woman leaves the room, Martin
glances after her, and thinks : “Curious, Jim Godfrey
doesn’t remember he owns such a likely piece of prop-
erty. Anyway, I’m glad the girl’s going. It would
have been a great inconvenience sending Estrella with-
out her maid, besides an infernal robbery of Jim
Godfrey of a very marketable article worth at least a
couple of thousand dollars on the auction block of the
Rotunda in the St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans.”
Commercial men had some curious ideas of prop-
erty in those days, and the New York merchant was
simply voicing them.
He looks at some letters on the desk in front of him
bearing the Galveston post-mark, and thinks grimly :
“From his correspondence I don’t imagine Jim God-
frey would take kindly to loss of property. Still he
never mentions the girl Zelma in his letters, and he
keeps a pretty good tag on all his other chattels. Can
it be that he has forgotten his wife’s purchase in New
Orleans ?”
Here the cigar drops from the merchant’s hands.
He springs up hurriedly, runs out into the street and
buys a paper ; for a newsboy is calling out ; “Extra
Herald! Great news! War in prospect ! The Presi-
dent has ordered the Army of Texas to advance and
take possession of the Rio Grande frontier ! Will the
Greasers stand this?”
“No,” mutters Martin to himself, “I’ll be hanged
if the Greasers stand this. This means a war with
Mexico certain as there’s a potato famine in Ireland !”
34
THE SPY COMPANY.
CHAPTER III.
THE CAPTAIN OF TEXAN RANGERS.
A dim misty morning early in March. The three
trees, which marked the Galveston Harbor of 1846,
are growing indistinct from the deck of the vessel, as
the steamer City of Mobile, a roomy but light draught
craft, suitable to the shallow bays and lagoons of the
Texan coast, is paddling over the soft swells of the Gulf
of Mexico. She is ladened to her bearings with sup-
plies for General Taylor’s army. Her forward deck
is littered by cases of ammunition, boxes of shells,
grape-shot and cannister. Cavalry saddles and casks
of commissary bacon and United States salt beef are
mixed with a lot of savage government mules, stabled
in the bow, a few ambulances and Conestoga wagons
being arranged about the beasts to keep them from
stampeding. The steerage is crowded with the usual
underling riff-rai¥ of an army, sutlers’ boys, teamsters,
canteen-men and camp followers.
Aft in the cabins, however, congregate commissary
officers accompanying the army’s supplies of forage
and provisions, two or three horse dealers, who have
contracts for government mounts, and a scattering of
diamond-pinned, white-shirted, egg-nog and mint julep
drinking gamblers, who will officiate with Uncle Sam’s
soldiers on pay-day.
Naturally such a vessel bears very few females,
though several lights-o’-love from New Orleans and a
couple of well rouged Mobile nymphs are proceeding
to Corpus Christi, where about the camp of the Ameri-
can army has grown up a shanty town, which harbors
those who prey upon the soldier as well as those who
prey upon the Government.
Near the stern of this steamer is seated Miss God-
THE SPY COMPANY.
35
frey, her bright eyes sometimes fixed on receding Gal-
veston and now and again turned inboard with a
rather perturbed expression on her pretty features.
She notices the incongruous crowd upon the decks, the
rough men and rouged women whose careless language
sometimes makes the blood suffuse her face and com-
pels her to turn her eyes again upon the sandy waters
dotted with barrel buoys that locate the narrow channel
over the Galveston bar.
Though she is unaccompanied, Americans surround
her. This gives the unchaperoned girl — for she has
left kind hearted Mrs. Rodney behind her in the re-
treating city — not only respect but privacy. Not one
of the free-and-easy men upon the deck says a word
to her or even glances unguardedly at her, though she
is the prettiest thing upon the steamer. Even the
flashily dressed, smooth mannered gamblers from the
Mississippi river, who are going down to Corpus
Christi to see what they can do at faro and poker with
the dashing officers of Taylor’s army, or better still to
fleece Government contractors with their purses full on
United States army contracts, though they cannot help
admiring the very stylish and beautiful young lady,
would no more approach her with a light word or at-
tempted conversation than they would the wife of the
President or the Queen of England.
Miss Godfrey’s immunity, however, does not include
Zelma, her maid. The slight drop of color in her
blood, scarcely observable except by eyes accustomed
to discover it, has made Estrella’s handsome octoroon
the subject not only of careless comments, but to these
have been added some rather pointed personal addresses
from “Yazoo Sam,” as smooth tongued and deadly a
gambler as ever handled poker chips.
These attentions coming under her mistress’s obser-
vation, Miss Godfrey, calling the young woman to her,
36
THE SPY COMPANY.
says: “Zelma, for this portion of the voyage I can
dispense with your personal attendance on deck. You
had better remain in your stateroom.”
The red blood comes hotly into her attendant’s face
and tears into her soft dark eyes, and she pouts quite
mutinously.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” goes on her mis-
tress, impulsively. “It is not reproof, Zelma; it is
only to save you from insult. But you must obey me.”
With this the octoroon dejectedly, thinking of Mr.
Yazoo Sam’s handsome face and attractive manner,
goes to her cabin feeling with the ardor of her one
drop of African blood that even for her own good it
is very hard to be deprived of the subtle wooing of
the Knight of the Faro Table.
Left by herself, Miss Godfrey seated on the vessel’s
deck grows gloomy; she is so entirely alone; the so-
cial ethics of the country she is now in forbidding her
making a companion of the girl she has with her.
Her journey from New York to New Orleans under
the care of Mr. and Mrs. Rodney had been a very
pleasant one. Even from there to Galveston on the
City of Mobile she had had the companionship of sev-
eral ladies journeying to join their husbands who were
merchants in Galveston or Houston.
But now the vessel, turned down the coast, is steam-
ing towards the Debatable Land, where the wildness
of the prairie is made more dangerous by the outrages
of guerrilla warfare, where Texan Rangers battle with
Mexican banditti, and the Comanche Indian, now that
it is spring time, is getting ready to descend from the
Pecos Mountains and the Llano Estacado upon the
fertile plains of Bexar and the valley of the San An-
tonio, adding to the horrors of partisan contest the raid
of the predatory savage.
The vessel has already made the offing ; the pilot has
THE SPY COMPANY.
37
been dispatched to the shore, when the quick tooting of
the steamer’s whistle and the sudden pause of her
walking-beam makes Miss Godfrey look towards the
bow. Another vessel, apparently disabled, as she is
traveling under one wheel, very slowly, is passing them,
and signals are being exchanged.
Apparently in response to these, the City of Mobile
remains motionless upon the lazy swell of the gulf.
Her paddles do not revolve again until a tugboat is
seen steaming out from Galveston to tow the disabled
ship into the harbor.
Then Miss Godfrey’s vessel steams southward along
die low gulf coast of Texas headed for Corpus Christi,
some two hundred miles away, where Uncle Sam’s
soldiers are gathered together, theoretically to occupy
and protect Texan soil, but really to be ready to take
the initiative and march for the Rio Grande at the first
signal from Washington.
As Estrella sits gazing at the shore she would be as
gloomy as its low swamps with their moss-grown cy-
press trees, were not in the girl’s mind the happy
thought : “Every revolution of the paddle wheels
brings me nearer to my father. To-morrow morning
Corpus Christi ! To-morrow morning, perhaps he will
meet me! To-morrow morning, I am in his loved
arms !” Her face grows brighf as the tropic sun that
is now rising, and her eyes as brilliant as the sea now
that the mists of the morning are driven from its blue
waters.
Into her revery steps Captain McGowan, the most
genial skipper who sailed the Gulf of Mexico. Those
who travelled the California trip in the Fifties remem-
ber McGowan. In white duck from “keel to kelsen,”
as he expresses it, he looks as immaculate “as a tltou-
sand bale Louisiana planter.”
In answer to the young lady’s inquiries — they have
38
THE SPY COMPANY.
become quite friends in the two days from New Or-
leans to Galveston — the skipper tells her that the vessel
that has passed them is the Paducah of the same line
bound up; that she has broken her shaft and is two
days behind her schedule time.
‘'Oh, goodness,” cries Estrella anxiously. ''There
may be a letter on board of her from my father. You
know I am going to Corpus Christi to meet papa.
From there he will take me up to his hacienda. Live
Oaks.”
"Yes, through a country with land pirates at every
turn,” mutters McGowan. Then he continues earn-
estly: "My dear young lady, I have been thinking
about you ever since you came on board again at Gal-
veston. You had better let me keep you on my ship at
Corpus Christi, and when I sail take you back with me.
The land you’re going to isn’t fit for human beings,
let alone a delicate girl like you.”
"That will be impossible! I have come here to see
my father ; to be by his side in his old age. My loved
father is waiting for me !” cries the girl devotedly.
"Well, love will make women go anywhere. There
are a few young officers’ wives even now down at Cor-
pus Christi, who want the last kiss of their boy husbands
before they bid them good-bye for the campaign, per-
haps the last they will ever give ’em,” replies the skipper
moodily. "But in this matter, since you are determined
to land. Miss Godfrey, permit me as commander of
this craft, to take a liberty.”
"Certainly, Captain. I know anything you do will
be for my good.” Estrella looks at him with grateful
eyes.
"Then,” replies the seaman, "heave anchor here.
I’ll join you in a minute.”
A few moments later he i‘eturns accompanied by a
gentleman, and says: "Miss Godfrey, permit me to
THE SPY COMPANY.
39
introduce to you Captain Hampton. There’s no man
better fitted to put you safely in your dad’s arms.”
“Captain Hampton!” ejaculates the girl, her eyes
growing big. “Not the ” Rising, she is about to
continue excitedly, when noticing the almost boyish
young fellow who is standing, sombrero in hand, before
her, she suddenly checks herself with a slightly em-
barrassed laugh and responds to the polite yet modest
bow of the gentleman before her.
“I’ll leave you to make his acquaintance,” says Mc-
Gowan cheerily. “Seasickness is about the only thing
that ever downed Hampton. He’s no great shakes on
shipboard, and made the voyage from New Orleans
with us to Galveston between blankets. But on
land he is a screamer.”
“This salt water business for a day or two made me
feel about as worthless as if I had been scalped,” re-
marks the young man diffidently. “However, I’m in
the saddle again. Noticing that you are alone on the
boat,” he continues in easier tone, “I have taken the
liberty of asking Captain McGowan to introduce me.
He tells me you insist on venturing to visit your father
up in Bexar County. Can I take the greater liberty of
asking your plans to get there ?”
“Certainly,” replies the young lady gratefully. “At
Corpus Christi, I am directed to go to the branch office
of Martin, Best & Co. There I hope to meet my father,
who will take me with him up to his rancho of Live
Oaks. It’s above the Aranzas.”
“Ah, yes, on Atascosa Creek near the Nueces, where
cattle thieves, Mexican smugglers and sometimes
Comanches ride.” The young man reflectively chews
a straw she notices he has in his mouth, and adds : “I
have not seen your father for the last few years.
You — you’ll excuse me, Miss, but Jim Godfrey can
hardly be right in his mind to think of taking a delicate
40
THE SPY COMPANY.
girl like you to such a place now that a general war
with Mexico is about to break out upon the whole bor-
der.”
“True,” replies Miss Godfrey, concern in her voice,
“Mr. Martin, his New York agent, told me ever since
the fight at Rock Springs my father’s letters indicate
he has changed very much, but still Mr. Martin always
said they were as full of horse sense as if he were Gen-
eral Sam Houston himself. You — you’ve seen my
father. Tell me, was he not always rational ?”
“Yes, after he recovered from that fight at Rock
Springs,” returns Hampton, “more than rational, long-
headed, astute and energetic. Still, of course, a des-
perate scrimmage like that one, together with what he
went through afterwards, may have told upon him
eventually.”
“You — you know the details of that awful fight,
where my father was the only one who escaped !” says
Estrella very eagerly. “Papa never wrote mother
much about it.”
“That was a good while ago,” returns Hampton,
“and there were so many little brushes just before our
big fights at Alamo and Goliad and San Jacinto that
one more or less didn’t count for much. Your father
escaped alive. At that time there were a good many
skirmishes in which everybody was rubbed out.” As
if to turn Miss Godfrey’s mind from this subject, he
glances at the very fashionable garments of the young
lady and observes rather abruptly: “From your ap-
pearance, you’ve been away from Texas for some time,
I reckon?”
“Yes, ever since I was three years of age. I have
never seen my father to remember him.” Her voice is
very eager as she asks : “Tell me, do I look like him ?”
“Not a bit !” answers the Captain decidedly.
THE SPY COMPANY.
41
‘‘I don’t look like my father!” pouts the girl disap-
pointedly.
“But still you do look like someone Fve seen,” re-
turns the Texan meditatively. His piercing eyes re-
gard Miss Godfrey so searchingly that to break away
from the subject, she goes into a rambling record of
her life; how her father had gone to Texas in 1824,
having received, as an impresario, an immense grant of
land from the Mexican Government on condition that
he furnish it with a hundred settlers. This contract he
had not been able to complete until 1834, though he had
long before that time located his hacienda on the fertile
lands between the Atascosa Creek and San Antonio
River. That while making this settlement, her little
sister, Sybil, two years younger than she, had been
stolen and carried away either by Mexican bandits or
Comanche Indians.
“Yes, such things have been too common about
here,” returns the Texan. “Though it may have
Lippians and Wacos, those savages then hadn’t been
taught to be good Indians by our Kentucky rifles.”
“Sometimes,” continues Estrella, “I imagine, though
he never mentioned it in his letters, it is some wild
hope of finding my sister that has kept my father all
these years from visiting New York and taking me
in his arms.”
Noting how the girl’s face lights up as she says this,
Hampton suggests: “You seem so eager to see him,
permit me to expedite the meeting by getting you early
on shore to-morrow morning and taking you to the of-
fice of Martin, Best & Co.”
“Thank you,” replies the girl unaffectedly, “I shall
be more than pleased if a friend of Captain McGowan
will be kind enough to see me that far upon the way.”
As they have been talking, Estrella has been looking
over the gentleman whose escort she has accepted and
42
THE SPY COMPANY.
is pleased with him, though she thinks he is rather
young to be of any great weight or importance in this
rough and tumble Western world.
He has a boy’s face, clean cut and Roman, lighted by
gray-blue eyes, that would seem cold did they not
sparkle enthusiastically as they gaze on her; a sym-
metrical figure, though rather gaunt and wiry from
the athletics of the prairie, exceedingly small feet and
hands. Dressed in a black long-skirted frock coat, the
typical Southern low-collared vest and an immaculately
white shirt, with trousers well spread out over his high
Wellington boots, a Mexican sombrero shading his
clean shaven face, the young man’s air would be that
of a rather bashful farm lad addressing a society
beauty, did not a curious courtesy of manner add a
quiet and almost impressive dignity to his bearing.
“Thank you,” he replies simply. “You have made
me very happy in trusting yourself so far to me. I
think even on this boat I may be of some little assist-
ance to you.”
“Indeed, how ?” asks the young lady, astonished.
“I noticed that you seemed inconvenienced sitting on
deck this morning without the attendance of your maid
to fan you and make you comfortable. If you will
permit me, I will speak to a certain gentleman, and I
think after that you can tell your girl that she can come
on deck.”
“Oh, please don’t make any trouble.”
“There will be no trouble. I will simply say to Mr.
Yazoo Sam that any attention to her maid annoys Miss
Godfrey. That will, I think, settle it.”
“But please don’t place yourself in danger,” whispers
the girl in a frightened tone. “These Mississippi
gamblers, I believe, are ”
“Are rather slick with the pistol,” he smiles coldly.
THE SPY COMPANY. 43
“Yes, blit other people about here are also quick on the
trigger.”
“Yes, I suppose they have to be to live,” she shud-
ders; then to change the subject remarks in rather
embarrassed tone : “When first Captain McGowan
mentioned your name as Hampton, do you know I
thought, till I noticed how boyish you were, that he
was perhaps introducing the celebrated Captain Sharpe
Selby Hampton of Hays’s Texan Rangers, the noted
frontiersman and Indian fighter, who even as a boy
fought at San Jacinto. Are you a relative of his?”
“Yes, I’m — I’m a connection,” stammers the young
man very nervously. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll — Til
execute the little mission I have given myself, so that
your girl can come on deck.”
He hurriedly leaves her, and Estrella, watching him
anxiously, sees him step to three or four gentlemen of
the dice box and card table who are lounging amidships
and they all lift their hats to him. He says a few quiet
words, and Mr. Yazoo Sam answers, his manner im-
plying dissent or refusal.
Then the girl starts astounded. The cold eyes of
this bashful boy gleam with a peculiar steely glint that
frightens her; a look flies into his face that awes her.
She seems to be in the presence of death. Half a
dozen cold words apparently issue slowly from his
thin chiseled lips, and the gambler shrinks from him ;
then shrugging his shoulders deprecatingly, bows and
responds in louder tone : “No offence meant and no
harm done, we hope. Captain. To prove it, let’s
liquor !” With this they all go forward, apparently to
the bar-room of the steamer that is doing a great busi-
ness.
A few minutes after Miss Godfrey steps to the state-
room and tells Zelma that she can come on deck with-
out fear of annoyance. This proves to be so. Mr.
44
THE SPY COMPANY.
Yazoo Sam does not address her maid, and the rest of
the morning passes quite pleasantly, Miss Godfrey
making herself acquainted with the “Indian Question”
in one of Cooper’s novels.
At two o’clock Captain McGowan makes his ap-
pearance at her side and suggests : “With your per-
mission, young lady. I’ll take you in to dinner.”
Entering the cabin, she finds the skipper has given
her retirement at his own table, only a sedate army
contractor and two commissariat officers in uniform
being of the party, with the addition of the gentleman
whose acquaintance she has made in the morning. He
shortly after comes in and seats himself on McGowan’s
other hand.
Towards the end of the meal the contractor and
commissary men, being about to leave the table to light
their cigars on deck, the skipper turning to Hampton,
says : Hope you and this young lady have had a pleas-
ant chat together.”
“Decidedly !” answers the gentleman enthusiastically.
Miss Godfrey was kind enough to tell me about the
great city of New York, life at Saratoga Springs, and
give me some description of the high-fly civilization,
upon the trail of which I got at New Orleans.”
“You’ve been up at the Crescent City, Captain?” re-
marks one of the commissary officers, as he rises from
his chair.
“Yes, getting equipment for the boys,” replies Hamp-
ton, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice. “You know
we expect to move very shortly.”
“Yes, when I was last at Corpus Christi, Ben Mc-
Cullogh told me that you were going to take over Sam
Walker’s company,” remarks the army man. “Also
that Colonel Hays had written to you in New Orleans
telling you to leave all extra equipment at Corpus
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45
Christi and the regiment would get it when they reach
there.”
“By George, that looks as if General Taylor was
about to move at once,” interjects McGowan.
“Sam Walker’s becoming its lieutenant colonel
will probably give you the vacant majority in the Texas
regiment, won’t it, Captain Hampton ?” asks the army
contractor.
“Can’t exactly be sure of that,” replies the young fel-
low. “Some people think I’m too young.” Here his
glance happens to catch the young lady seated at Mc-
Gowan’s side, her face, made red yet bewitching by
embarrassment, directed at some raisins upon her plate.
He mutters blushingly : “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll
accept your invitation and join you in a cigar,” and
hurriedly leaves the cabin ahead of the commissariat
men.
“What’s the matter with Sharpe Hampton?” queries
McGowan of his pretty charge. “He always was a
bashful fellow, but to-day he seems to excel himself.
He accepted those army chaps’ cigars when they didn’t
offer them.”
“I’m afraid,” says Miss Godfrey, still studying the
raisins on her plate, “that Captain Hampton is perhaps
displeased with me. I made a very embarrassing and
foolish contretemps. I told him I had nearly mis-
taken him for the celebrated Captain Sharpe Hampton,
but that of course he was too young.” Then she
breaks out, her eyes growing big : “Is that boy really
the great frontiersman, the friend of the celebrated
Colonel Jack Hays of the Texas Rangers, and Ben Mc-
Cullogh, and the hero"6f half a hundred hand to hand
encounters with Mexicans and Indians?”
“Yes, that’s Captain Sharpe Selby Hampton,” re-
plies the skipper. To this he adds in low chuckle:
“By Jove, you’ve nrobably wounded Sharpe Hampton
46
THE SPY COMPANY.
more savagely than half a dozen regiments of Greasers
could. The only thing he is touchy upon is his youth-
ful appearance.’’
“But isn’t he a boy?”
“Well, he’s twenty-six. About the age Napoleon
fought his great Italian campaigns, I believe. And be-
tween you and me, Captain Sharpe Selby Hampton,
though he’s as modest as he is brave, is able enough
and experienced enough to take care of anything in the
fighting line, from grizzly bars to Comanche Indians ;
though in other respects he is a very timid young fel-
low, as you’ve doubtless seen. Blushed to the eyes,
didn’t he, as he addressed you? Come,” the seaman
says cheerfully, ‘T’ll make your peace with him. No-
body could be very angry with you/’ Leading the
young lady on deck, he finds the young Texan medi-
tatively smoking a cigar.
‘T see I’ve got to make this introduction over
again,” remarks McGowan. “Miss Godfrey, this is
really Captain Sharpe Selby Hampton, the comrade of
Jack Hays and Ben McCullogh, the hero of half a hun-
dred skirmishes, the boy who with ‘Deaf Smith'
destroyed the bridge at San Jacinto.”
“Now quit, McGowan,” says the young man, un-
easily, tossing his cigar away, his face growing red not-
withstanding its tan.
“The Greaser killer, the Injun scalper!” guffaws the
jovial seadog.
“Please hold your horses !” says Hampton. “I never
put my knife about an Indian’s top-knot, though I’ve
been tempted to. What man in Texas hasn’t? But
you’ll frighten Miss Godfrey ; frighten her of me, when
— when I had hoped to be perhaps of some little ser-
vice to her.”
“Oh, that you have already been!” cries the girl
gratefully. “The attendance of my maid has been very
THE SPY COMPANY.
47
useful to me." She glances at the Texan Ranger aiid
sees something in his countenance that makes her turn
her eyes diffidently over the blue waves gliding by the
steamer’s side.
"By Jingo, you’re the bashful one now, Miss
Estrella," laughs McGowan, ‘‘but I must relieve my
first officer and give him a chance for dinner."
The commander of the boat walks forward leaving
Miss Godfrey still gazing out upon the waters of the
Gulf.
“You look all — all fired warm," stammers the Texan
nervously. “Let me get your girl to come and fan
you."
“Pooh, I don’t need to be fanned all the time," laughs
the young lady. “Please place a steamer chair for
me. Then will you tell me something of the land of
my birth that I am visiting but which I know so little
about ?"
“Will mustangs kick?" replies Hampton eagerly,
and though lacking in experience, he shows the instinct
of a cavalier by making Miss Godfrey very comfort-
able. Seated beside her, and perhaps inspired by her
exquisite face or by his subject, for the land of Texas
seems dear to him, the young man tells his lovely vis-a-
vis the beauties of the Lone Star State, describing the
wave-like plains green with the richest grasses and
covered with myriads of buffalo. From this he runs
into a picture of the most lovely thing in all that
southern country, the flower prairie, that sea of dazzling
colors dotted here and there with mottes of timber
that look like green islands in a gorgeous ocean. He
explains that these are often so vast in extent that only
the tried frontiersmen dare attempt to cross them with-
out compass, for the inexperienced get lost upon them,
and traveling in circles mid the flowery billows, become
as helpless as if alone in an open boat upon the bound-
48
THE SPY COMPANY.
less ocean, sinking down to die of thirst, the odors of a
million petals regaling their expiring nostrils and their
dying ears soothed with the songs of innumerable hum-
ming birds and orange winged orioles. Enthusing over
the wonderful game that covers this fair land, he tells
his listener of hunting adventures with buffalo, cougars
and also the savage jaguar of Southern Texas.
During this Miss Godfrey notices that he is only elo-
quent upon the pleasant things of the country she is
visiting ; that he says naught of the frightful combats
by men over this beautiful land, of the rattlesnakes that
lie coiled beneath its wild flowers, or of the merciless
Indians that raid its green prairies with lance and
scalping knife.
But in the midst of his oration, the Captain suddenly
starts and says disconcertedly : “Thunder, that’s the
gong for supper.”
“Yes, the time has passed very rapidly and very
pleasantly, hasn’t it?” remarks the girl. To this she
adds as she rises : “Thank you for trying to make me
like Texas. You’ve even made death in its flower
prairies poetic.”
“Well, yes,” he replies uneasily, “I love my State
and I want you to like it also. It’s your State too.”
But his disciple in frontier instruction going off to
her cabin, he stands gazing after her graceful figure.
To himself he mutters sheepishly : “That’s the first
occasion I ever jabbered poetic nothings.”
Soon after pacing the deck and attempting philo-
sophy by the aid of a cigar, he is joined by the genial
skipper of the City of Mobile. “I hope you will be
able to assist the young lady when she lands,” remarks
McGowan, “down in that rutty, muddy, cut-throat
hole, Corpus Christi, to-morrow morning.”
“Believe me, I shall do what I can for her,” responds
the Texan.
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49
“You found her somewhat like her father, I pre-
sume suggests the skipper.
“No more than a canary bird is like a blue jay, Fm
very happy to say,” is Hampton’s reply. “For between
ourselves, Jim Godfrey has the reputation of being a
very onery cuss all over Southern Texas, working his
niggers to death and skinning everybody who has
dealings with him. But his daughter — whew ! As
the Arkansas traveler said, ‘she is chicken fixings.’ ”
The Ranger’s eyes are very enthusiastic.
“Oh, so you do think well of my protege?”
“Well, I thought enough of her two or three hours
ago to risk my life by telling Yazoo Sam, who they say
shoots mighty straight, that if he didn’t quit sparking
Miss Godfrey’s yaller gal. I’d put daylight through him
to-morrow morning as soon as we landed,” answers the
young man. “You see it annoyed Miss Godfrey just a
leetle and I couldn’t stand that. No Siree! Not by
Texas!”
CHAPTER IV.
THE FIGHT FOR THE DESERT SPRING.
In 1846 on an ocean steamer on the Gulf Coast, what
was called “supper” was nearly always a pleasant
meal. This evening the breeze was blowing softly
through the open transoms of the City of Mobile, the
bright lights of the salon made the cabin cheerful, and
the languid splash of the waters outside under the
paddles of the boat seemed to be a pleasant lullaby.
The menu was excellent, but Miss Godfrey
noticed that the Captain of the Texan Rangers,
who came in considerably after she did and sat
opposite her, said very little and ate perhaps less.
50
THE SPY COMPANY.
So much so, that McGowan, who announces that they
will be in Corpus Christi early in the morning, re-
marks “Still seasick, eh. Captain Hampton? You
have too delicate a stomach for salt water cooking.
You should take a lesson in gastronomy iroiu this
young lady at my right hand. She can handle a knife
and fork in a gale of wind.” This is quite true. Miss
Godfrey somehow is in excellent spirits this evening
and is doing full justice to a very good meal.
“No romance in her appetite,” continues the skipper
cheerily. Turning to his fair protege, he suggests :
“Have another plate of waffles, won’t you?”
“Thank you,” laughs Estrella. “After that can I
support your eulogy of my appetite with some of that
buffalo tongue in front of you ?”
“With pleasure. This evening Hampton will ex-
plain to you how they shoot these critters out on the
plains.”
“I think I’ve told you that already,” responds the
Texan, glancing across the table, but the bright eyes
of his exquisite vis-a-vis make him seek his plate again,
though they don’t increase his appetite.
For some occult reason the more beautiful Miss God-
frey appears to him, the gloomier and more distrait this
Captain of Rangers. Accustomed to the dangers of
partisan warfare with savage enemies, he seems to be
almost afraid of gazing on the ethereal loveliness of
the lady, which this evening is pronounced enough to
conquer more blase gentlemen than the young fellow
seated opposite to her. Though extremely cool-head-
ed when facing almost inevitable death, Sharpe has
grown very warm-blooded in encountering the dash-
ing light artillery of Estrella’s brown eyes. This even-
ing he thinks Miss Godfrey is beautiful enough to con-
quer anything that walks.
Perhaps judging it is her last opportunity for some
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51
little time to wear the delicate garments of fashionable
life, this summery evening Estrella is all in white, her
perfectly formed shoulders and rounded arms gleaming
like ivory beneath the sheer muslins of her corsage.
Zelma has bound up her hair a la Greque, but artfully
destroyed classic severity by permitting two or three
ringlets to escape and dangle upon the snowy neck.
This is not absolutely Attic style, but it suits Captain
Hampton “down to the ground,” as he mentally ex-
presses it.
Noticing his almost rustic embarrassment, McGowan,
who as a popular steamboat captain, has witnessed
many salt water flirtations, mercilessly remarks : “Per-
haps after dinner you will find something pleasanter
than buffalo to chat about to Miss Godfrey. You
know he has had some experience,” he continues to
the young lady. “He is a little seasick now, but upon
dry land, I am told, he is a frontier gallant, and you
can bet it’s true. I never saw a fighter who wasn’t a
lover.”
“It isn’t quite fair. Captain, to jump on a sea-
sick man,” returns Hampton. He rises uneasily and
mutters: “In fact, I — I guess this cabin’s too hot for
me. I’ll — I’ll go on deck and take a cigar.”
A slight laugh, in which Estrella herself cannot help
joining, hastens his abrupt exodus from the table.
“That fellow,” chuckles the Captain, “is more danger-
ous than he looks. Colonel Jack Hays, who’s traveled
with me, tells me Hampton dances the fandango so
well that the hombres in San Antonio snap their yellow
teeth like castanets, and the senoritas down on the Rio
Grande think he is the prettiest caballero who ever
straddled a bucking mustang. You want to look out
for him. Miss Godfrey.”
“Ah, then you should not have placed me in his
charge. Captain McGowan,” laughs Estrella, parrying
52
THE SPY COMPANY.
liis suggestion with that woman’s tact which is given
even to debutantes. “You must remember that I’ve
only been out one season and am not accustomed to
meet gentlemen who they say fight like Paladins.”
“Oh, I’d risk you; its Sharpe I’m scared about,”
answers the Captain. “Besides, soon as we get to
Corpus Christi, that chap who is smoking his cigar on
deck will have rivals. The dashing bucks of Taylor’s
Army will be about you like bees round a honey tree.”
To this the young lady doesn’t answer. It reminds
her of young Pelham and the souvenir he had taken
from her at Saratoga. She knows the lieutenant rides
with May’s Dragoons ; that perhaps to-morrow she will
see his handsome figure and earnest eyes. But as she
steps on deck with McGowan she puts this from her
mind with a careless : “Pshaw, he must have forgot-
ten me long ago scouting on the plains.”
As she and the skipper pace together the port side
of the hurricane deck, the Texan strides the starboard
side. Rather chewing his cigar than smoking it,
he is pondering on a subject that disturbs him.
Miss Godfrey is the first high!); accomplished and
delicately bred Anglo-Saxon young lady he has ever
met. Uncouth though comely trappers’ daughters
he has seen quite often. With the semi-civilized
beauties of the coquettish reho£o and floating nagiia
that abound on the Mexican border, he has oft footed
the cachucha to the disgust of their compatriots, but
this Eastern belle with her cultivated graces of mind
and body is something he has never met before.
Though in his short and only visit to New Orleans,
from which he is returning, he had looked at the
Louisiana beauties, it had only been distantly from
a seat in the opera house or theatre. Estrella’s very
delicacy and refinement make him extremely diffident.
He says to himself grimly : “Miss High Elyer doubt-
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53
less thinks me a mixture of uncultured frontier lad and
blood-thirsty bravo/’ but gazes earnestly across the
deck at the delicate beauty that is almost fairylike in
the moonlight.
Catching a glance from the girl’s bright eyes, he
recklessly tosses his cigar away and walks straight as
the moth to the flame to Miss Godfrey, who has
been left by McGowan seated on a steamer chair under
the stern awning.
With that curious abruptness common to bashful
men he remarks : “I have been thinking about your
father. Miss Godfrey.”
“Oh, thank you for coming to talk to me about
him,” replies the girl eagerly and cordially. “Tell me
everything you know of him, Captain Hampton. You
seemed this morning to rather avoid speaking of him.”
Her delicate hand and her almost pleading eyes indicate
the camp stool beside her.
The next second he is seated quite close to her, say-
ing earnestly : “Only because I hesitated to mention
to you a scene in his life that must greatly affect his
daughter. As a matter of fact, the only time I ever
really was with Jim Godfrey for more than a passing
hour was just after that extraordinary little Indian-
Mexican skirmish, from which your father was the
only one who escaped alive.”
“Yes, the only one,” answers the girl, her voice
quivering. “Tell me. You could not have been there.
He was the only one who lived.”
“Not there at the time, but mighty shortly after-
wards,” answers the ranger ; “and if you do not think
it will disturb your nerves too much, I will tell you
about it as well as I am able. I was only a boy of fifteen
then. But there are certain scenes that get branded
upon a man’s memory.
“Early in 1836, I, in company with a small band of
54
THE SPY COMPANY.
Texans, was sent to scout on the upper waters of the
Guadaloupe. There were but few of us. Most of
those who bore arms were getting ready on the lower
San Antonio and about Goliad to meet the expected
invasion of Santa Anna from Mexico. For in the pre-
vious December, we had answered old Ben Milam’s
cry and avenged his blood in storming San Antonio,
and sending General Cos hustling across the Rio
Grande to tell his master Santa Anna that he and fif-
teen hundred Mexican regulars had been driven out of
the chief town in Texas by some three hundred fron-
tiersmen unaided by artillery and only armed with
rifles, pistols and Arkansas toothpicks.
“Almost as soon as Cos was squelched. Colonel
Travis, who was in command at San Antonio, ordered
some ten of us to patrol the sources of the Guada-
loupe. He feared that some Mexican column might
sneak in back of us from Chihuahua, and cut us ofif
from the main Texan force which was all too slowly
assembling at Gonzales.
“For a few days we scouted upon and examined
the head waters of that river reaching the tag end of
those barren plains that in New Mexico are called
the Llano Estacado and come down in Middle Texas
almost to the Rio Grande. Though the country is
not quite as barren there as it is further up, springs
are mighty few and far between, and upon the sun-
dried mesa getting enough water for man and beast
is about as hard as trapping coyotes.
“Our work had to be done very carefully for we
were upon the borders of the Indian country and while
we were looking for Mexicans, might be surprised
and jumped on by Comanches. So we all kept our
eyes mighty wide open.
“One morning, just at the border of this bad land,
Jake Littell and I came on, to our astonishment, among
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55
the pihon timber about the base of some outlying
butes, a trail. Though the imprints were those of moc-
casins, we knew that no Indian feet had made ’em ;
because they turned outward. Tracking this for about
an hour, we overtook a crazy white man dressed in
store clothes. He was raving with delirium from the
hot sun, his tongue black as a watermelon-seed from
lack of water.
“On seeing us, he uttered a shriek and fled from
us. Being mounted, we rapidly overtook him, seized
him, poured water down his throat and gave him the
best succor possible out on the prairie.
“After drinking our canteens dry, he revived suf-
ficiently to tell us that he and a party of five others
had had a brush with a band of Mexican volunteer
cavalry somewhere to the south of us.
“By this time, the balance of the command had
overtaken us. ‘Greasers to the South !’ was passed
along. We were not accustomed to count noses in
those days, and we didn’t ask ‘how many?’ Taking
the man with us, who was still at times so delirious
we had to tie him on an extra pack mule, we started
off on one of the most terrific jaunts I have ever
ridden. Even in February, the vegetation was parched
upon that arid plain. Of course we had taken
the precaution to fill our -canteens when we left the
last little creek that trickled down the escarpment to
join the Guadaloupe, for we guessed water would be
almighty scarce upon the Mesa. As we rode on, the
burning sun over head seemed to blister us. It was
the hottest winter day I have ever seen in Texas and
would have been a broiler even in the middle of sum-
mer. Not a breath of air was stirring over the arid
table land ; and mighty soon our mustangs began to
suffer. But stimulated by the hope of wiping out
the rancheros, we travelled one whole day and
56
THE SPY COMPANY.
part of the next. By this time we were beginning to
think not of Mexican cavalry, but of water to keep us
alive. Already two or three of the pack mules had
given up and thrown themselves down upon the baked
adobe soil to die. The veteran frontiersman, in com-
mand of us, had a very gloomy look upon his gaunt
visage as he rode along, chewing some tasajo to get a
little saliva in his mouth. In fact, those of us who
were not chewing jerked beef, were chewing bullets
to keep our tongues from swelling till they choked us.
“Just then a little breeze, the first that had fanned
us, sprang up from the west.
“Littell, who was riding beside me, chancing to
gaze over the cactus plain, suddenly cried : ‘Golly,
look at them mules that we’ve left behind us! Boys,
we’re saved I’ For the two mules that had given up
and were lying down, had staggered to their feet and
were loping off towards the west, new life in them.
“All animals have an instinct for water, but a mule
can scent it farther than a buzzard can see a carcass.
Littell knew this and he implored our captain to fol-
low them. ‘I’ve seen ’em, boys, run seven hours clean
off the trail and find water. For God’s sake, git after
’em,’ he implored to our commander. So we tore helter
skelter after the mules.
“The Mexican cavalry might be south of us, but we
were so thirsty we thought only that a spring might
be within reach of us.
“So our horses loped and staggered along for two
hours when the mules ran plump into a spring of
living water. I could no more have held my bronco
from going into it than I could have held a cannon ball
from one of those eighteen-pounder guns down at Cor-
pus Christi.
“As our mustangs sprang in we jumped off them,
an/^ man and beast drank together like mad.
THE SPY COMPANY.
57
“I had scarce filled myself, and I think I took about
a gallon, when Littell clapped me on the shoulder
and whispered : ‘Sharpe, look ! See what’s about
us.’
“Just then several of our men uttered hoarse cries.
1 sprang up and saw that we had ridden into the scene
of an almighty tough scrimmage, but had been so
crazed for water we hadn’t noticed it. Dead men lay all
about that spring, some in the uniforms of the Mexi-
can lancers, some in the buckskin of the trapper, and
one dressed in store clothes, though he wore high boots
and leggings.
“ ‘Ready, boys, Injuns!’ cried our leader.
“ ‘Indians ? I don’t see any,’ I half laughed. Out
on the plain there was no cover save a gully half a
mile away, full of mesquite brush and prickly cactus.
“ ‘Injuns, sure,’ said Littell. ‘Look, ye little green-
horn. Every dead man lying around here. Greaser or
American, has been scalped.'
“Like a streak we were in the saddle and recon-
noitred that plain mighty carefully, though we kept
half a dozen men about the spring, for we knew
that would be the vital point in a long fight. The
crowd that had water must whip.
“All our scouts returned in the course of an hour
or two and said no Indians’ signs in sight, except the
trail of a big Comanche war party that had apparently
travelled out to the northwest, probably two days be-
fore.
“So we went to doing the Christian act by the
dead Americans. The Greasers we left to their friends,
the vultures. Though we examined the ground care-
fully, and even the mesquite chaparral, not a sign of
dead Indian could we find about. The four men — there
were five Americans in all — were known to some of
our command as buffalo hunters. The man in store
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THE SPY COMPANY.
clothes was utterly unknown to any of us. He was
probably some mining prospector or speculator in
lands, because the only things we could find in his
pockets were two or three lumps of black stuff, the
boys allowed must be coal, and a surveyor’s chain and
compass. I suppose the varmints left them fearing
the instruments were ‘Bad Medicin.’ Everything- else
had been taken from him by the Indians except one
of those little golden circles that I’ve seen on so many
dead men’s breasts after a fight. The boys don’t like
to look at them. Those who know what they mean
never tell. Even tough old Littell turned his head
away when he saw that golden sign on the dead man’s
body.”
“Is it like — like this one?” asks Miss Godfrey, pro-
ducing the little circle which nearly two years before
in Saratoga had perturbed the great United States
Senator.
“Exactly !” returns the Texan after he has examined
it by the light coming from the open window of the
cabin. “Where did you get this ?” he asks curiously.
“It was one my mother brought with her from Texas.
She said my father wore it when I was a little girl.”
“Yes, many of those who have come to us from the
United States have worn ’em/’ remarks Hampton.
“Most people in Texas don't like to talk about ’em,
but I reckon they are the sign of some great secret so-
ciety, probably only political in its ends, certainly not
criminal, for some of the bravest and noblest men who
have fallen in battle for Texas have borne that sym-
bol.
“But to go on with my story,” he continues. “As
we journeyed down the Guadalonpe, the man we
had found in the butcs gradually got back his senses.
During this, from the broken words he gave to us
from time to time, I put up the combat around that
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59
Rock Springs — that’s what they call it now — about
in this peculiar and weird way.
“That spring of living water, twenty Mexican lan-
cers, scouting from the direction of Eagle Pass and
the Rio Grande, had taken possession of. The six
Texans coming from the other way, their horses worn
out by heat and thirst, themselves made desperate by
want of water — had attacked. For apparently the
fight had been made by the twenty Greasers to keep
the six Americans from getting a taste of that spring.
The combat had been hand to hand ; desperate, bloody.
Pistols against lances, rifles against escopetas, and
bowie knives against machetes. Our crowd had won,
butchered the rancheros to a man though all of the
Americans had been killed except the crazy fellow we
were bringing back with us. But here’s the curious
part of it. While this combat was going on, fifty Ind-
ians in war paint, coming over the plain, had looked
grimly at it until Greaser and white man had gone
down together, and then had quietly ridden in and
scalped the dead, made ready for their devilment. But
by some trick of the frontier or act of Providence they
had missed this one man who had flown before them
and somehow escaped and got down into the butes
where we had found him just in time to save his life.
“This I figured out from the position of the bodies
and accoutrements and a few wandering horses sad-
dled and bridled that we found grazing near the spring.
“As we returned down the Guadaloupe, gradually
the man recovered his senses and became known to us
by the papers on him ; so we took him back to where
he belonged, the great hacienda of Live Oaks below San
Antonio. Here a new horror put all his brains back in-
to him, for we found the adobe buildings had been gut-
ted by General Cos and his Greasers in his retreat, and
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THE SPY COMPANY.
every head of livestock and every nigger run off, and
every man upon it massacred. There was no more
life at the hacienda of Live Oaks than there had been
life at the lone spring upon the mesa one hundred and
fifty miles away, except a 'dog, the man called Pinto,
who came to him and licked his hand. For the crazy
demented fugitive we had picked up in the butes was
Jim Godfrey — your father.”
“I had guessed this,” whispers Estrella sadly. “How
he must have suffered!” Then she continues in anx-
ious tone : “You — you’re quite sure that his mind was
not permanently affected in any way?’^
“Certainly,” returns the Captain decidedly. “Your
dad’s very misfortunes seemed to give new life and
energy to him. The moment he discovered everyone
was dead about the plantation, that it had been entirely
destroyed, the vigor of a man who will not be crushed
seemed to come into him. Even while we rangers
stood about the ruined hacienda, your father with in-
domitable nerve, was already taking measures to build
it up again. Without assistance, he dug up from a
place where it had been concealed in the masonry of
the building, a chest containing not only his business
papers but a large quantity of money in United States
gold. For a very little while, I think, he had an idea
of taking this money and leaving the plantation and
going back to the States, but that was only for an
hour or two. Even when our scouts came in and re-
ported that the Mexicans had run off every nigger
and killed every white man on the plantation, and
that there was not a living thing within forty miles
of us except wild animals, your father had made up
his mind to rebuild. I heard him say to Littell : ‘Five
hundred thousand acres is a principality, why shouldn’t
I stay and hold it?’
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6i
“Four years from that time, chancing to be on a scout
on the Atascosa with Hays's Rangers, I visited Live
Oaks. I found it rebuilt. A lot of new niggers pur-
chased in Louisiana were at work in the fields. More
white settlers brought from the States had joined your
father. Determined not to have it destroyed again,
Jim Godfrey had fortified the rancho and armed it.
In proof of this to-day the Hacienda of Live Oaks is
the only inhabited station between San Antonio and
Corpus Christi with the exception of the cabin of one
family of life-in-their-hand trappers who live near
Aranzas Bay. Your father’s great trouble will be to
get you to his rancho safely. But probably he has
brought enough of his followers with him to make
your journey comparatively secure, especially as Tay-
lor’s projected movement to the Rio Grande will oc-
cupy all the Mexican forces.”
“Ah, you make me very happy,” replies his listener,
her eyes beaming. “Every word you have uttered has
proclaimed my father’s devotion to me. Even with his
great losses and destroyed estate, he within a year af-
terwards sent sufficient money for my mother’s and my
comfort in New York and soon after enough for even
my luxury.”
“Very well, then let’s take the trail to livelier topics,”
suggests the Captain. “The darkies are singing some
plantation melodies in the steerage. Would you like
to hear them?” for sounds of the banjo are floating
over the soft and quiet waters.
“With pleasure,” remarks the young lady, and un-
der his escort strolls forward to listen to “Oh, Susan-
nah,” “Nellie Grey,” and “The Arkansas Traveller,”
and see a big darkey roustabout from Louisiana do
a terrific double shuffle Levee dance on the hurricane
deck.
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THE SPY COMPANY.
“You like music?” she asks the Captain.
“Well, yes, possibly because Tve heard so very little
of it. You know I never listened to an opera until
I went into the Academy in New Orelans. There was a
soul in. that melody which made my eyes water and
I’m not considered about here by the Greasers partic-
ularly chicken hearted. Italian music about a trouba-
dour.”
“Ah ! Like to hear some Italian melodies to-night ?”
“From — from your lips?”
“Oh, I’m not a prima donna, but I think I know
some of the songs from II Trovatore you listened to
that evening in New Orleans.”
Miss Godfrey steps into the cabin and gives some
directions to her maid.
A few moments after as she and the Captain are
seated near the stern of the boat, Zelma brings to her
mistress a guitar.
Then Hampton, as he expresses it to himself, “hears
the band begin to play,” and thinks that Miss Godfrey,
singing sweet Italian love songs in the moonlight, beats
the New Orleans prima donnas all to flinders.
“At all events, her melodies make me luny,” cogitates
the Texan after the young lady has gone away to her
cabin. Then he abruptly mutters : “Where in thun-
der have I seen her features ?”
Lighting a cigar he paces the deck, turning the
thing over in his mind. Finally he concludes it is so
long ago he cannot locate it. Yet even after he has
turned in, as he lies in his berth. Miss Godfrey’s radiant
features will come back to him.
“The face I remember was of course, not so pretty
as hers. Jumping mustangs, nothing could be as pretty
as hers!” he thinks half dreamily, as he tosses on the
pillow. Suddenly he gives a start, shudders slight-
THE SPY COMPANY.
63
ly, and mutters : “Snakes and "gators, have I gone
daft? By the Eternal, the face that looked like hers
had been scalped T
BOOK II
Taylor’s Camp at Corpus Christi.
CHAPTER V.
THE MARCH FOR THE .JO GRANDE.
The next morning Miss Godfrey wakes to find the
steamer anchored in the bay of Corpus Christi. A
dozen other vessels are about the City of Mobile,
among them, two small gun boats and a revenue cutter.
To her astonishment she sees they all have steam up.
The bustle of an army getting ready for active service
is on the water as well as on the land. The orderly
lines of white tents and log cabins of four thousand
U. S. Regulars, three or four batteries of artillery, the
light guns placed in position, the heavy guns parked
at the rear, are in full view. As Estrella steps on
deck the reveille sounding from half a dozen fife and
drum corps comes faintly over the water. The flag
is being hoisted on the headquarters flagstaff. The
whole glorious panoply of war is in front of her. She
can see the infantry companies forming in the canvas-
bordered streets though there are no signs of the usual
morning drill.
In contrast to the extreme order of the military en-
campment, outside its lines on the lower ground nearer
the shore, stands a disreputable shanty town of adobe
huts, clapboard houses and even dwellings made of
(64)
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65
mesquite boughs and branches, and Conestoga wagons
that have become houses on wheels, its irregular streets
filled with the refuse of that shiftless congregation
which always clusters about an army in its winter
quarters. For Taylor’s forces have occupied Corpus
Christi for nearly five months, ample time to gather
about his well-ordered command not only those on di-
rect business for the Government bringing him sup-
plies, forage and ammunition, but also the thousand
varied sharks and harpies that live upon, prey upon and
plunder Uncle Sam’s soldiers. Consequently in this
heterogeneous congregation of buildings are seen Mex-
ican dance halls, with painted canvas signs, American
gambling-houses and bar-rooms where aguardiente,
mescal and “noyau” together with bad whiskey that
never saw Kentucky, are served in sufficient quantities
to make the duties of the provost marshal very ardu-
ous after pay-day. Of course, mingled with the haunts
of vice are the sirens who lure the soldiers into them.
The appearance of this shanty town is made some-
what picturesque by the green of the bough manufac-
tured huts and the varied patched covers of the Con-
estoga wagons, some of which are occupied as homes
by wandering camp followers who are ready to hitch
up and follow along as soon as the army moves to the
front.
In the nearer foreground, right on the shore, stand a
few very plain sheds of rough lumber and adobe ware-
houses of firms doing business with the United States
Government.- Between these and Estrella are the blue
waters of Corpus Christi Bay, now busy with marine
life. Apparently some movement is contemplated for
the anchored ships and steamers.
Already Miss Godfrey has eaten a hasty breakfast
in the cabin, and attended by Zelma, stands eagerly
awaking disembarkation. Gradually her mobile fea-
66
THE SPY COMPANY.
tures become shadowed by a poignant disappointment.
She had hoped that her father, eager as she for meet-
ing, might come off in a shore boat to greet her. But
no Jim Godfrey climbs up the side ladder. So she
stands, her little foot tapping the deck impatiently,
until nearly all the passengers have disembarked, and
tries to hide her chagrin by pretending to be interested
as the mules are swung over the ship’s side and made
to swim for their lives to the shore, though a tear or
two will dim her eyes.
About this time Captain Hampton says quietly at
her shoulder: “Everything is ready for you. Miss
Godfrey. McGowan has kindly given me one of the
cutters. I’ve got your baggage in it. With your per-
mission, can I assist you down the side ladder?”
“Not until I’ve said a word to her,” cries the skipper.
Turning for a moment from his ship’s duties, he takes
the young girl’s hands in his and says cordially : “My
dear young lady, even if you meet your father you had
better remain on board my ship with him until he
takes you to his rancho. In addition, should your
father not be in that rough and tumble shanty town
there, my advice is for you to return to the City of
Mobile. Then I’ll take charge of you and put you
back in New Orleans and civilization.”
“Thank you, but I shall not come back. Captain. I
am going to -see my father, even if he is not here, even
if I have to go to the ranch,” she answers determinedly.
“He may have mistaken the time for my coming.”
“Then you’ve a pretty difficult task upon your hands,
young lady,” remarks the skipper glumly. Tak-
ing Hampton aside, he whispers a few hasty words,
and Miss Godfrey catches the reply in low, quiet voice :
“Leave her to me, McGowan. I’ll see that she gets
in her dad’s arms.”
Somehow this gives great confidence to the young
THE SPY COMPANY.
67
lady. She is in such good spirits as she permits
herself to be assisted down the side ladder of the
ship that she hardly notices that an army boat dashes
up to it and a staff officer in undress uniform hastily
passes her at the gangway and goes into consultation
with Captain McGowan. That the craft does not
carry a Texan planter who may be her father is all
that concerns her.
Zelma has preceded her and is already seated with
her mistress’s hand baggage and big sunshade on one
of the midship’s seats of the cutter. As Hampton
places himself beside Miss Godfrey in the stern, the
mistress notices a curious austerity in his face as he
chances to gaze at her octoroon maid. Once when he
has occasion to speak to Zelma, his words are curt
and the tone of his voice is severe.
Wondering at this, Estrella, who has already made
up her mind that the geni'leman at her side has a kind
heart, and furthermore that he also considers himself
altogether too great a gun to pay much attention to
the doings of her servant, casts her eyes over Zelma
to see if there is anything in her attendant’s manner or
appearance that has caused the Captain’s condemna-
tion, and discovers naught.
Upon this journey her mistress has thought it wise,
in view of the young woman’s atractive personality,
to keep Zelma, though neatly, very plainly dressed.
This morning her maid would be unnoticeable were it
not impossible to hide the contpurs of a delicate yet
slightly voluptuous Creole figure beneath a plain black
short-skirted alpaca frock and to destroy the effect of
her lustrous, languid, dark eyes by having the glossy
dark masses of the girl’s hair braided into two big
disfiguring pigtails.
But even as Miss Godfrey looks, she is concerned
to notice that Zelma under Hampton’s glance droops
6g THE SPY COMPANY.
her eyes in an almost guilty embarrassment, and her
attendant’s manner becomes extraordinarily confused.
The boat having reached a little pile landing place,
Hampton springs out and very carefully assists Miss
Godfrey upon its rough planking. Zelma, with the
hand baggage, has been passed on shore by the
crew. With a sharp command to her attendant:
“Keep close behind your mistress, girl,” the Texan leads
the young lady through a short street which has been
made a quagmire by the wheels of Government wagons
through which a band of army pack mules are tramp-
ing, splashing the black Texas mud over Estrella’s neat
travelling dress.
“Can’t help roughing it a leetle,” remarks Hampton,
reassuringly, as he keeps between the delicate girl and
some rough teamsters, and escorts her very carefully
through a congregation of Mexican packers, for, lured
by American gold, there were always plenty of non-
combatant Greasers in the rear of Uncle Sam’s army.
During this, Estrella cannot help glancing at the
cavalier who is taking such very good care of her. A
look of astonishment is in her face. Sharpe Hampton
upon the land is almost a different being to Sharpe
Hampton upon the sea. His air, which had been
rather quietly languid on shipboard, has become strik-
ingly alert. His movements seem quick as a wildcat’s.
This wonderful flexibility is easily apparent from the
costume he wears, which is a mixture of that of the
prairies and that of the parade ground. His legs are
cased in buckskin breeches tight as if they were his
own skin. His feet are in moccasins. A short buck-
skin hunting shirt clothes him from the waist up ; over
it is the loose undress coat of a volunteer captain,
his rank shown by a couple of neat shoulder straps.
A Mexican sombrero tops his resolute face, and instead
of a sword, he wears for side arms in his belt a buck-
THE SPY COMPANY.
69
horn-handled bowie knife and a pair of six-shooting
Colt’s dragoon pistols, deadly as a rifle at a hundred
yards.
Though his legs are slightly bowed from constant
horse exercise, his pace is so rapid that twice he has to
stop and accommodate his steps to those of the pretty
feet which are striving to keep up with him. Under
his guidance the party soon stand in front of a little
clapboard shanty labeled by a canvas sign : “Branch
Offlee, Martin Best & Co., New York.” This the
^'oung lady enters with a very eager look upon her face
to receive astonishment and afterwards dismay.
A clerk, who would be dapper were his shirt not cov-
ered with whiskey stains and his sleeves not rolled up
to his elbows, looks carelessly up from some bills of
lading, and, seeing this goddess of beauty and fashion,
takes off a battered straw hat and ejaculates under his
breath: “Gee cracky!”
As she mentions her name he bows effusively and
says deferentially: “Fm mighty sorry,' Miss Godfrey,
but there’s been a terrific mistake up to our Galveston,
office. We sent a letter there that your father had got
word to us that he would be up the coast at Mata-
gorda to meet you, not Corpus Christi. As soon as
we got it we forwarded his instructions on the Padii-
cahr
“Oh, mercy, the Paducah broke her shaft. We
passed her outside of Galveston Harbor. That letter
reached there after I left. What am I to do?”
“Well, your father’s at Matagorda.”
“Can I get transportation to Matagorda?”
“No; I am sorry to tell you all the steamboats go
back direct to Galveston,” replies the clerk. ^
“Then what am I to do ? I must see my father.”
Her escort, who has not intruded himself upon this
interview, is standing outside the door, looking medi-
70
THE SPY COMPANY.
tatively at a sutler’s boy trying to conquer a wayward
bronco. She steps out to him and, hastily explaining
the matter, says, consternation in her voice : “Captain
Hampton, I am in a fearful dilemma. What am I to
do?”
“You want very much to see your father?”
“Oh, so much. Think, I haven’t looked on him ever
in my life to know him.”
“Well, the most sensible way would be for you to
stay here until you can get carried back to Galveston.
Some vessel in a few days must be returning up the
coast. From there send word to your father and let
him visit you at that place.”
“I don’t think he can come. He is too busy. He
has a large number of Government contracts. He
furnishes horses for the volunteer regiments they ex-
pect to raise in Texas, also the Mounted Rifles.”
“Yes, I know that.” Then, after a moment’s con-
sideration, Hampton adds : “I think your father made
up his mind it would not be possible to get through
to Corpus Christ! with his scalp. That’s the reason
he didn’t come here.”
“But I must go to him.”
“I understand your ideas on that point. Believe
me, you shall see him, though I may have to make ar-
rangements that you go by schooner to Matagorda.
At all events, for the present the best place for you
is on board of McGowan’s steamboat.”
Her trunks are being carried into the office of Mar-
tin, Best & Co. by some negro roustabouts. To them
he says : “Leave these here for the present.” To the
young lady he suggests : “Let your maid carry your
hand baggage, and I will trot you down to the shore
again and get you on board at once.” Then the tears
of disappointment in her beautiful eyes draw from
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71
him: ^‘Only take the word of Sharpe Hampton that
in some way or other you shall see your father!”
As they pass through the clustering roustabouts and
Government teamsters near the shore of the bay a buzz
of commotion and excitement seems to pervade the
shanty town. Hampton apparently doesn’t heed this,
though when he gets to the landing place a short, sharp
gun from one of the warships calls from him a sudden
exclamation. He says, shading his eyes and looking
over the waters of the bay: ‘‘Great thunder, look,
every vessel in the harbor is going out of it 1”
“Even the City of Mobile/' whispers Estrella, dis-
may in her voice.
“By golly, if de whole flock of ’em ain’t tooten’ down
to P’int Isabella to wait dere til der Greasers is licked
out,” guffaws a half-clothed negro sutler’s boy, who is
looking at the picture with two or three equally un-
dressed companions.
“What does it mean?” asks the girl, faintly, feeling
that this nautical movement affects her destiny.
As she speaks the soft notes of the bugles float
through the quiet air from the distant camp.
“Mean?” cries the young Texan, the fire of battle
making his eyes flash and bringing the blood into his
cheeks. “Those transports all ordered down the coast ;
those bugles from the army lines sounding ‘boots and
saddles !’ By the Lord, it means at last Taylor is
marching on the Rio Grande. My Heaven, I’ve got
to get back like blazes to San Antonio and bring the
boys on quick.”
The bugles from the distant camp sound again and
Miss Godfrey, looking up dismayed, notices that the
veins in her escort’s forehead stand out and his eyes
are turned eagerly southward.
“Captain Hampton, I’m afraid your care of me will
keep you from your military duties,” says Estrella, fal-
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THE SPY COMPANY.
teriiigly. ‘‘Leave me at the office of Martin, Best &
Co. That clerk is a gentleman. He will do all he can
for the daughter of Jim Godfrey, one of their most
valuable customers.”
“Leave you here; the army going from it; in this
disreputable, teamster, camp-follower gambling hole ?”
he glances over the rough town.
“Then couldn’t you get some Mexicans to escort me
to my father’s ranch ?”
''Greasers to keep you from Comanches?” half jeers,
half shudders Hampton. “Don’t doubt those red devils
know the men of Texas are going to the front, and are
already trailing down over the plains to jump each un-
protected ranch-house. Come with me. I’ve got to
go up to Taylor’s camp, anyway. There may be some
wives of officers left who can take care of you for the
moment.”
As he speaks the Texan is striding hurriedly along
the muddy street of this purlieus of the army. Two
minutes after he is at what proudly calls itself a livery
stable, and is assisting the boys to hitch a couple of
mustangs into a second-hand army ambulance, buckling
strap and throwing on harness himself.
Upon the front seat of this vehicle he seats Zelma,
tossing in her mistress’s light baggage after her. With
much more care he assists to the back seat Miss God-
frey. Springing beside her, he says sharply to a nigger
boy, who has jumped in front and is handling the reins :
“Drive lively to Taylor’s headquarters. Sambo !”
So they dash up the muddy street, splattering the
black mold upon several half-breed camp women, who
are out looking for victims, one or two white-shirted
gamblers who are strolling towards the martial music,
and “Monte Juan,” a Mexican card sharper, who would
mutter a "CarajoT as they pass him by — did he not
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73
recognize and remember Captain Sharpe Hampton of
Hays’s Rangers.
As they drive up to headquarteis martial music
breaks out upon the sunny air. “See, the advance is
beginning,” whispers Hampton, his eyes glinting as
he points toward the parade ground, where the regi-
ments are now drawn up; their tents, already struck,
have been put into the baggage-wagons, which are
clustering to follow them.
Already the movement is in progress ; Taylor and his
staff are reviewing the advance column of his army
that he is projecting on the Rio Grande, that stream
the approach to which the Mexican Government has
said means war.
A squadron of Thornton’s Dragoons trotting with
clattering sabres forms the advance guard. Immedi-
ately after rides the leader of the column. Colonel
Twiggs, followed by his staff, hard-riding, dashing,
young officers of fine bearing, but dressed in fatigue
uniforms and rigged out for service, not display. Then
with slashing route step come three regiments of in-
fantry, their bands playing, their men cheering. After
them roll the light batteries, their gallant commander,
that superb artilleryman, Ringgold, riding ahead of his
guns, his eyes vivid with the anticipation of battle
and victory, gallant eyes that two months hence shall
close in death on the blood-stained field of Palo Alto.
All through the ranks are faces radiant with hope
of successful war, and many with thought of happy re-
turn honored with victory to their loved ones in the
far North States. But this morning all eyes are turned
southward, not to face about until they have borne the
American colors proudly over the Cordilleras and plant-
ed them victorious on the capital of Mexico. Many of
them will never turn north again ; boys who have kissed
their sweethearts for the last time ; husbands who shall
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look no more in this world upon wives’ faces; men
whose mothers shall wait for them by the home fireside
in vain.
Yet all go cheering buoyantly along as if they were
striding to fete, not to battle. For five months’ waiting
in this kennel of Corpus Christi has made Uncle Sam’s
war dogs very eager, now that the leash has been taken
from them, to spring at Mexican throats.
The column disappears in the distance, the dust of
their foot-tracks drifts away, but the United States
with the footsteps of this marching column has begun
one of its greatest territorial advances. Before those
battle-flags are furled Uncle Sam will absorb Texas,
California, and all that great territory that now per-
mits him to span the continent with half a dozen lines
of steel from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and so on to
the commerce of the Far East ; a national development
without which the great Yankee nation’s destiny would
have been inefficient, incomplete, absurd.
As usual, quite a congregation of onlookers have
inspected the departing troops. One of them a
smooth-tongued, timid-looking hospital clerk, remarks :
“Gee! When they hear the news up in the States,
won’t they give poor old Rough-and-Ready Taylor
hell for this?”
“Yes, the Presidency !” answers a long-headed, cool
Government commissariat contractor, spitting some
tobacco juice in the dust.
But the hospital clerk guessed right, as well as the
contractor. National expansion, as usual, was opposed
by a certain number of the American people, who cried
out: “Conquest, blood and Imperialism!” and, not
satisfied with attacking the Government at Washington,
inaugurated an assault upon the army of this country
from the rear, doing more damage to it than the foes
in front of it. For American soldiers have usually been
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75
very successful in meeting open opponents, steel to
steel, and gun to gun, though their officers have some-
times suffered wofully from cowardly assassins of their
characters who have assailed them in the rear, and who
even in the halls of Congress have cried out with a
simplicity that would be ludicrous were it not horrible :
“Great heavens, our cruel soldiers are defending their
lives and killing somebody T
But the American nation, despite their puny pro-
tests, still marches ever on, as it did in 1846, in the
days of Winfield Scott, Zachary Taylor and the Mex-
ican War.
CHAPTER VI.
“tPIE GOLIAD HOUSE.
During this Miss Godfrey’s eyes have rested much
oftener upon the face of the Texan sitting next hei
than upon the military panorama that has passed be-
fore her. As regiment after regiment has passed him,
and battery after battery of light artillery has rum-
bled on, she has seen a flush of shame mingled with
the light of battle coming into the clean-cut, Roman
features beside her. She has observed that his clenched
hands indicate some absorbing emotion, and that his
thin lips which utter no words grow thinner in com-
pression.
A sinking dread comes into the girl’s heart as she
notices the Berserker spirit rising in the only man to
whom she can turn for protection in her extremity.
For as she has ridden through the narrow byways of
the sutlers’ town she has seen sights that make her
frightened to be left alone in it; deeply rouged Mex-
ican fohrHas, sitting in the easy dishabille of the trop-
76
THE SPY COMPANY.
ics in front of their houses smoking their cigarettes
and waving their fans at passers-by; low barrooms,
out of which have strolled the scum of the army
following, gamblers, three-card-monte men and sharp-
ers. In addition, several painted Anglo-Saxon cour-
tesans have made her shudder.
Finally, as the tramp of the departing column dies
away, as the last glimmer of arms is lost in the sur-
rounding forest, a mighty emotion seems to shake this
man, and Estrella knows that he for the moment has
forgotten her in the excitement of coming battle. For
Sharpe Hampton half rises in the ambulance, his face
red as blood with shame, the veins in his forehead
swollen almost to bursting, and mutters in abased
voice: “By the God of my fathers, not one Texan in
the whole durned outfit !” Then, speaking to himself,
he breaks out rapidly : “I must get on to San Antonio
at once. The boys must be here before the first battle
or it would disgrace our State forever ”
“Oh, don’t let me detain you,” says the girl, proudly,
though her heart is heavy.
Apparently awakening from a dream, the light of
battle leaves his eyes, which grow tender. To her he
replies : “You won’t detain me from my duty.”
“And why not?”
“Because my duty is, like that of any other soldier,
to see that everything is all right in the rear before
he charges to the front.” With this Hampton looks
eagerly over the parade ground, which is now a scene
of busy activity. The General has gone back to staff
business in his log cabin headquarters, another column
leaves the next morning. Preparations are now being
hastily made for this ; commissary officers are busy with
equipment and ordnance stores ; aides-de-camp are
riding about and giving orders ; baggage-wagons being
ladened.
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77
But the Ranger’s eyes are not upon this military
bustle. After a hasty glance over the heterogeneous
throng which crowd along the lines of the parade
ground he scans intently the log cabins of the offi-
cers’ quarters, and seeing no lady’s face except the
anxious one that is beside him, he mutters : “There
— there doesn’t seem to be a single officer’s wife
about,” then continues rapidly to Miss Godfrey :
“You’re perfectly safe here. Remain still while I go to
headquarters. The General will probably have some-
thing to say to me about bringing on the Texan troops.
While there I’ll see what can be done for your accom-
modation and your return to Galveston.”
As he springs out of the ambulance his eye catches
a group of their fellow-passengers of ihQ City of Mo-
bile, and he says sharply to Zelma : “Girl, take good
care of your mistress, and don’t dare to leave her side.”
Noting his tone, Estrella asks anxiously of her at-
tendant : “Zelma, what is the reason Captain Hamp-
ton is so displeased with you ?”
“I — I don’t know, Madame,” stammers the young
woman, though her eyes are turned from those of her
mistress.
“You’re quite certain?” says Miss Godfrey. De-
spite herself her voice is rather cold as she steps from
the wagon and directs her maid : “Please jump out,
Zelma, and brush some of this frightful dust from me.”
In the ambulance Miss Godfrey had been scarcely
noticed, but as she steps upon the parade ground, the
only lady on it, her graceful figure and stylish costume
produce a quick sensation, even among the older faces
about Taylor’s headquarters. Among the younger
officers a hundred bright eyes are placed directly upon
her, and half a hundred moustachios are suddenly
curled to make their effect upon beauty.
With this a dashing lieutenant in dragoon uniform
78
THE SPY COMPANY.
rapidly wheels his horse, gallops to her and, doffing
his fatigue cap, says : “Is it possible? Can it be?”
And she replies: “It is,” adding, with perhaps a
tinge of coquetry in her tone, “I am glad to see that I
haven’t changed so much since Saratoga that you’ve
forgotten me, Mr. Pelham.”
The young man, bending over his saddle bow, whis-
pers : “Forget you ? Never.” Then he breaks out :
“Why in God’s name have you come to this place now ?
Every lady by order was sent north a week ago on the
Paducah” and springs off his charger to hold con-
sultation with this beautiful derelict from civilization
in the camp of an army that is now practically in active
campaign.
As he walks by her side Miss Godfrey gives the
young man an epitome of the circumstances that have
brought her to Corpus Christi, closing it by murmur-
ing, rather roguishly: “I am very sorry you think it
unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate! At any other time I should say it
was more than good luck,” answers Pelham, enthusi-
astically, his eyes lingering on the beauties of the girl
that he thought enchanting in Saratoga, but which
have been made overpowering by the development of
the last two years. “Only a week ago I could have
done so much for you here,” he says, earnestly, but
disconcertedly. “My mother, who had come down to
see me, only left on the Paducah. You wouldn’t have
made this mistake if you had” — he looks at her ear-
nestly— “ever — ever cared to write to me. But now
I don’t know what I’m going to do for you. My
squadron. May’s Dragoons, are here acting as provost
guard and in general attendance at headquarters. But
even we take route to-morrow morning. When the
army ceases to patrol that wretched, cattle-thief, gam-
bler, riff-raff, shanty-town down there, I don’t know
THE SPY COMPANY.
79
what will happen in it,” remarks the Lieutenant, ap-
prehension running over his face as he looks upon the
delicate waif from civilization. “You say Captain
Sharpe Hampton of the Texan Rangers has you in
his charge?” he continues. “From what we’ve heard
of him since we’ve been in Southern Texas, I should
think Providence has picked out for you about the
best man in these regions to see you very safe.”
This conference is interrupted by the return of
Hampton. The handsome young dragoon strolling by
the side of his charge has perhaps quickened the Tex-
an’s steps.
“Captain Hampton,” says Estrella, in answer to his
inquiring glance, “let me present Lieutenant Pelham
of May’s Dragoons.”
The young men greet each other cordially, Sharpe
remarking: “From the reputation of your command-
er, Mr. Pelham, I am inclined to think your squadrons
will be heard from as soon as the campaign begins.”
To this, after a moment’s consideration, he adds:
“You’ve been located here some little time. Will you
excuse a few hasty questions? I am told that the
officers’ wives have all been sent from this camp, which
will be practically deserted to-morrow. Do you know
of any proper place in which I can leave Miss Godfrey
until I can make some arrangements for her safe trans-
portation to Matagorda?”
At this the Lieutenant, after looking helpless for a
moment, says: “I expect the only place you can get
lodging for Miss Godfrey — and that’s bad enough — is
in the Goliad House.” He points down the narrow
dirty street leading from the camp towards the em-
barcadero. “It’s a God-forlsaken hole with a faro
bank in one comer of it every night on the lower floor ;
but it’s the only place.”
8o
THE SPY COMPANY.
He has just given this information when an orderly
rides up, and, saluting, delivers a hurried order.
Receiving this, the young officer remarks, his face
twitching with disappointment : “I’m ordered to im-
mediately escort a wagon of medical supplies that have
been left behind and deliver them to the Chief Surgeon
of Twiggs’s column. I’d hoped. Miss Godfrey, to ride
down to the town with you and do my best to make you
comfortable, but the order is immediate. Good-bye
for the moment. As soon as I’ve delivered Colonel
Twiggs’s quinine and calomel I’ll come to the Goliad
House to see you. That’s where you’re going to take
her. Captain Hampton ?”
“Yes,” replies the Texan. “I suppose it’s the only
thing I can do now ; all the officers’ ladies have gone
north.”
“Then this little note from the Assistant Provost-
Marshal here, who is your humble servant, to Him
Jones, who is proprietor of the house, I think will suc-
ceed in getting you anything that’s in it,” remarks the
Lieutenant. Hastily penciling a few lines in his mem-
orandum book, he tears the page out and hands it to
Hampton.
“Thank you. I’ll deliver it,” remarks the Texan, as
he turns to the wagon.
“Good-bye, Miss Godfrey,” whispers Pelham,
more in his voice than in his words: “I’ll be back
and see you this evening certainly.” He squeezes the
little fingers held out for his salute, springs on his
horse and gallops away.
As the dragoon has been bidding the young lady
good-bye the Ranger has been giving some orders to
their negro driver, and the minute Estrella and her
maid are seated in the carriage he rides with them into
the town.
During this he is speaking rapidly. “At headquar-
THE SPY COMPANY.
8l
ters 1 received a note that had been sent me there from
the City of Mobile. McGowan is very much con-
cerned that his vessel was ordered down to Point Isa-
bella immediately so that he could not offer you the
hospitality of his ship. The extra equipment for
Hays’s regiment that I bought in New Orleans, he
writes me, has been put hastily on shore in a lighter.
Landing and storing this will probably delay me here
the balance of this day. During it I am going to try
and find a craft of some kind that will take you up to
Matagorda, for you must absolutely leave here by
water.”
“What makes you think that so very important?”
asks Estrella.
“Well, from what I picked up at Taylor’s head-
quarters, that Mexican scoundrel, Carrabijol,* has had
the impudence to come up here, even during this last
day or two, and sound the old General as to whether
he would use United States troops to support him in
organizing a revolution in the northern Mexican
States,” replies Hampton, earnestly. “Of course, it
didn’t take long for old ‘Rough and Ready’ to have
the Mexican bandit hustled out of his camp. But if
Carrabijol has been here, it doesn’t take two guesses
to be very sure that his master Canales isn’t very far
off over that prairie,” he points to the west, “with a
band of rancheros. Now Taylor, having commenced
his march, Canales will move north to harass the Tex-
an settlements. It would be but a toss-up as to
whether you had better fall into this bandit’s clutches
or Comanche hands. Therefore, I must make arrange-
* “Carrabijol, the lieutenant of Canales (the great Mexican
bandit of the Rio Grande), visited Taylor’s camp at Corpus
Christ! to try and induce the American General to support him
in a revolution against the Mexican General Government.”—
Our Army at Monterey, by J. B. Thorpe.
82
THE SPY COMPANY.
ments for you to depart by water. While I do this
I’ve got to leave you with Him Jones of the Goliad
House. This note from the Lieutenant, I imagine,
will fix it all right ; but if Him Jones is the Him Jones
I used to know in Goliad a word from me will make
you very safe with him. Him Jones won’t hesitate to
run a faro bank, but he’ll run it square every deal.”
By this time they have drawn up in front of a clap-
board hotd of two low stories, whose canvas sign over-
topping its roof bears the words: “Goliad House.”
Its ground floor is devoted to a bar and billiard room,
though a flight of rough steps outside the building
leads to its second story, which has a balcony in front
of it.
“Just wait in the wagon until I see the proprietor,”
directs Hampton, springing out.
A minute later he comes back to her, assists her
carefully from the wagon, and, telling the maid to
bring her mistress’s belongings with her, leads Miss
Godfrey up this rickety stairway to the second story.
At the door of this they are welcomed by a hawk-
nosed, alligator- jawed man in shirt-sleeves, who in re-
sponse to Hampton’s remark: “Jones, this is the
young lady you are to take mighty good care of in my
absence,” pulls his forelock and says : “Captain, she’ll
be ace high all the time in this house.”
Then the girl finds herself led through a narrow and
uncarpeted hallway and ushere^ into two back rooms,
both having cot beds in them and some cheap pine fur-
niture.
“They’re not very scrumptious,” remarks Mr. Jones,
“but there ain’t as much noise in ’em as the front dom-
iciles. And in ’em, baring skeeters, you can be as lone-
ly as if you were in the State Prison.”
“That’s what I want,” says the young lady. “Thank
you, Mr. Jones, I shall be very comfortable here.”
THE SPY COMPANY.
83
She looks out on the enlivening prospect of Mr.
Jones’s backyard, where a couple of razor-back hogs
are rubbing themselves against the poles that support
the building, and two or three more are rooting in the
swill that has been chucked out of the pleasant kitchen
of the Goliad House by the fat negro woman who acts
as its chef de cuisine.
Some odor of coming meal catching Hampton’s nos-
trils, he glances at his watch and says: “While I’m
away, Him, you see this young lady has dinner.”
“Yes, sirree; prairie-chicken fixins and wild turkey
notions,” replies Him, eager to offer frontier hos-
pitality.
“She’d better have it served in her room. Her maid
can bring it up to her,” suggests the Ranger. “Now,
Miss Godfrey, I’ll see what I can do to get some kind
of a boat to take you up the coast again.”
With this he leaves the room. Catching a glance of
his eye. Him Jones follows him. Out of earshot, in the
front of the hotel, Hampton says a few hasty words
to the innkeeper.
“What, that bang-up twenty-five-hundred-dollar,
slick as camp-meeting piece of feminine flesh and
blood?” mutters Him sternly. “This is a purty good
place to run niggers off, and I’ll keep an eye on the
wench.”
As the Texan Ranger strides down the street the
hotel keeper emits a contemplative whistle, and says to
himself : “Great alligators, who’d have thought that
French China doll who wears silk stockin’s and high-
heeled slippers would need a cuttin’ up.” Then even
Him Jones’s hard features become perturbed as he
ejaculates: “Cracky, I wouldn’t be in that octoroon’s
hide if her master, Jim Godfrey, ever knows of her
gallivanting. He’s the tightest man with niggers this
side of Louisiannie, and that’s sayin’ a good deal.”
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THE SPY COMPANY.
With this the boniface strolls back into his house, where
he lives up to his word, taking up with his own hands
the best kind of a frontier dinner of hot corn dodgers,
broiled prairie chicken and roast wild turkey to the
young lady in the upper rooms.
Miss Godfrey, being nervous, does but scant justice
to the meal. Then, the time being heavy on her hands,
she strolls to the front of the hotel, gazes out through
a few panes of glass inserted in the door that opens on
the veranda, and finds herself surrounded by the semi-
frontier, semi-Mexican demoralization that has gath-
ered about an army in winter quarters.
Across the street from her is a big dance hall bear-
ing the sign, “Bella Union.” Upon its front door is
placarded “t/w Fandango Grander And beneath
this : “Last Big Dance for Taylor’s Boys. Mexican
Orchestra and Lots of Hurdy-Gurdy Girls. Carmelita
Will Dance, come one, come all! ADMISSION
. FREE!”
On either flank of this building are ordinary saloons.
In front of one, out on the muddy sidewalk, sit a few
of the diamond-pinned gentry of her voyage, Mr. Yazoo
Sam in white flannel suit and Panama hat quite con-
spicuous among them, his feet cocked up on a live oak
tree. On the same side as Miss Godfrey’s hotel are
two or three more drinking shops, a general merchan-
dise store and a shooting gallery, from which the occa-
sional crack of a rifle indicates some army teamsters
are trying to win the pipes and cigars that are offered
for prizes.
According to Spanish custom, most of the ladies of
the town are enjoying a siesta, and, the day being hot,
but few men tramp its streets, though there are plenty
busy handling freight down at the embarcadero, from
which now and then an army wagon rolls past her, its
THE SPY COMPANY. 85
teamster cracking his whip and cursing his mules as
they go through the adobe mud.
The aspect of the place is depressing to the young
lady. She shudders slightly. It seems as if she were
in a new and uncouth world.
Her dejection increases when Hampton returns and
brings a shock with him. He says, glumly : ‘T have
been down to the office of Martin, Best & Co. and had
that clerk running around all over the harbor to see
if he could find transportation for you to Matagorda.
There ain’t so much as a skiff that can be got, let alone
a sloop or a schooner, which is the smallest thing that
dare go out on the open ocean, now it’s getting the
season for northers.”
'‘Then what am I to do?” asks the girl, half of her-
self, half of him. “What am I to do? I know your
duty compels you to leave here to-morrow at the latest
to bring down Hays’s regiment. I cannot ask you to
sacrifice your duty as a soldier for me.” Then she
shudders : “God help me ; alone in this terrible place !”
After a second she adds: “Mr. Pelham would do
everything in his power for me, but is compelled by
his duty to leave here to-morrow.”
“And another would do everything for you,” remarks
Hampton, “another. Miss Godfrey; don’t forget me.
Let me think over the thing.” As he looks upon
this girl, made even more beautiful by the anxiety in
her eyes, something comes into the frontiersman’s mind
that tells him what he decides within the next few
moments will be vital to his life. He says, slowly:
“Let me consider this when I am away from you. Your
trouble keeps me from judging just straight.”
Pacing the little veranda, a curious look is in his cold,
blue eyes. They flicker and grow dim. For the first
time in his life Sharpe Plampton is really frightened.
With himself he communes: “Best keep away from
86
THE SPY COMPANY.
her. I know when Tm licked. A few days more un-
der the glances of her sweet eyes and I’ll go into my
next fight scared that I’ll die before I’ve won something
I’ve got to win before I go under. And yet, it’s de-
spair, anyway. A rough, hard-fighting frontiersman
must look like a galoot to a girl who’s been brought up
as finicky as she. But I couldn’t look man nor woman
in the face if I deserted her here, helpless and alone,
even under the plea of military necessity.”
Then the spirit that had changed defeat into victory
in so many desperate contests surges up in him.
He says recklessly to himself : “Down at Mier*
I drew a white bean. By the soul of old Ben Milam,
I’ll see if her pretty fingers will give me a black one,
even if handsome West Point dragoons hustle with me
for her favor.”
He quietly steps back to the young lady, whose
eyes are distrait with anxiety and her hands twitching
nervously, in his soul one great question : “Will she
do it?”
The two stand facing each other, a problem in each of
their minds. The bronzed features of the Texan grow
slightly pale; his hands also tremble a little; he says,
slowly: “Miss Godfrey, I’ve got to get to my regi-
ment up at San Antonio. Your father’s hacienda isn’t
much of a ride out of my way. If you’ll trust your-
self with me alone on the prairies for days and nights,
dodging bandits and eluding Indians, I’ll put you safe-
ly in your dad’s arms if the thing is to be done.”
* During the unfortunate Mier Expedition, in 1842, the cap-
tured Texans were decimated by order of the Mexican Govern-
ment. Nine white beans to each black one were placed in a
gourd, and each one of the prisoners was compelled to insert
his hand and draw out one bean. Those who chanced to take
the black ones were soon after led out and shot to death. —
Editor,
THE SPY COMPANY.
87
“Trust you? I know you’ll get me there!” cries
the girl, impulsively. “Thank heaven, everything’s
fixed all right.” In proof of this she extends eagerly
her delicate patrician hand.
“Then you’re — you’re not frightened of me?” he
mutters ; his face glows red ; and her slight fingers are
seized in a grip of steel, yet held most tenderly and
respectfully.
Estrella looks at him earnestly for a moment. The
color that is in his face seems to call the blushes to her
cheeks also. The eyes of the young Captain of Ran-
gers have something more in them than the request
of confidence. She says, falteringly : “No, not fright-
ened, but — but ” Her glances, that have been full
upon him, seek the floor.
She is frightened of something. Intangible, but
vivid, it makes her heart beat very fast. She hastily
withdraws her fingers from the electric clasp of the
bowie knife scarred hand.
“Now I’ve got a good many arrangements to make
to get you off to-morrow morning,” remarks the Cap-
tain, and turns towards the door almost as if to fly.
“What are you going to do?” asks the girl.
“First, I’m going to store your trunks in Martin,
Best & Co.’s with directions that they be forwarded as
soon as possible to Matagorda. From there they can
go up by wagon to meet you at your ranch house. To
get through with me you’ve got to travel flying light
on horseback.”
“Oh, I can ride ! I’ve a riding habit !” cries Estrella,
confidently.
“Not one of those civilized things,” asks the Ran-
ger, glumly, “like the girls use on the Shell Road and
round the Lake Drive in New Orleans?”
“The same, if they’re in the very latest fashion,” an-
swers Miss Godfrey, airily.
88
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Fashion? You won’t ride fashionable. You have
got to wear something that you can walk in, run in and
ride boy fashion in. That jim-crack riding habit of
yours would be torn half off you in the first mesquite
thicket that your mustang pranced through. Besides,
part of the journey may have to be made on foot. You
don’t know what’s ahead of you.”
“I don’t care what’s ahead of me as long as it takes
me to my father.”
“I don’t believe you do,” answers Hampton, noting
the buoyant, yet determined, brilliancy of her eyes.
“So I’ll get the right kind of rigging for you.”
Leaving her astonished, he strides off to the general
merchandise store ; but on the way there he pauses
abruptly and communes with himself in dismayed
tones : “Thunder, I see the giraffe ahead of me !”*
CHAPTER VII.
THE DANCING GIRL OF MATAMORAS.
The embarrassment brought about by this compact
is perhaps greater in the lady than the gentleman.
Miss Godfrey is blushing vividly as she calls her maid
in to her from the next room and hastily tells her of
the arrangement, directing her to make every prepa-
ration for them to leave in the morning.
Zelma’s reply to this is disheartening. She says
doggedly : “Then I fear you’ll have to leave me here,
my mistress. I cannot ride.”
“What, and be all alone in the wilderness, with no
* A slang expression common in Texas at that day, equiva-
lent to our expressive phrase in later American vernacular,
“I see my finish.” — Editor,
THE, SPY COMPANY.
89
one with us ?” breaks out Estrella, growing red to the
roots of her hair. “Your not riding is all nonsense.
My mother told me as a pickaninny you used to strad-
dle an old mule in Louisiana. It — it seems to me you
want to be left behind.” She looks at her maid
astoundedly.
This colloquy is interrupted by the return of Hamp-
ton. In his hand are two buckskin frocks that have
apparently been made for Indian or backwoods maid-
ens. One of these, though it is of the finest fawn
skin and decked with some rather gaudy beads, brings
consternation to Miss Godfrey. The other or heavier
pelt is somewhat coarser in its making.
“I brought this for you to wear on the journey,”
remarks the frontiersman, briefly.
“Oh. good heavens, theyVe — they’ve got leggings,”
gasps Estrella, for those were the days before mod-
ern bicycle exercise had inured young ladies to gen-
erous athletic personal display.
“Yes, and you’ll have to wear ’em, too,” half laughs
the Texan. “You’ll look very well in the wild Injun
act, though I reckon these moccasins will be rather
large for your feet. Have your girl make the duds
over to fit you this afternoon. This other frock is for
her.” He places on the table a somewhat plainer buck-
skin tunic.
“But — but Zelma says she cannot ride,” rejoins Miss
Godfrey, inspecting the costume diffidently.
“She’ll have to,” answers the Texan. “Straddle
fashion, it won’t be so difficult.”
“Straddle fashion? I’m — I’m to ride that way,
too?” stammers Estrella.
“Certainly, when there isn’t a lady’s saddle within
two hundred miles of us. Besides, I don’t think any
bronco can be broken in a few hours to carry you lob-
sided. I’m going to make, everything as comfortable
90
THE SPY COMPANY.
and convenient as possible for you, but there are cer-
tain things beyond me, and this is one of them. Do
you stand by your platform ? Will you go ?”
‘'Of course I will. I’ll ride in any fashion to see
my father.''
“Then give your directions to your girl," directs the
Texan. “After that I'll take you down to Martin, Best
& Co., where you can rummage through your trunks
and get what is absolutely indispensable in the way of
clothing and feminine nicknacks. I’ve even decided to
risk a pack mule, though we oughtn’t to take it with
us."
“Certainly, I’ll do anything you say,” answers Miss
Godfrey, and she takes Zelma into the other room with
her. After a few minutes’ dressmaking consultation
she returns to the gentleman, who is impatiently pacing
the veranda. “I’ve put Zelma to work on — on the gar-
ments/' she says, as Hampton leads her down to the
ambulance that is in front of the Goliad House waiting
for her.
A short drive through streets in which Texas mud
is changing under the hot sun to Texas dust and they
are at the shipping office once more. Leaving Estrella
in charge of the clerk, the Captain of the Rangers goes
down to the embarcadero to look after the unloading
of the equipment for the Texas regiment and its stor-
age with the Government quartermaster.
Returning from this in about an hour, he is pleased
to find that his pupil in frontier travel has exercised
considerable self-denial as well as discretion in the
selection of her wardrobe, and has a very small bundle
made up.
“Only one dress," she laughs. “That’s not very
much for a lady who yesterday thought a good deal
about her personal appearance."
“These trunks will be forwarded on the first vessel
THE SPY COMPANY.
9^
that goes up the coast/^ remarks the Ranger. “You’ll
get ’em finally at Live Oaks by wagon train from
Matagorda. We will put your immediate necessities
in the ambulance and tote them up to the hotel.^'
With her bundle in his hand he leads the young lady
out after repeating his instructions to the clerk.
Apparently he has been making some other pur-
chases for her. The ambulance takes them to a cor-
ral on the outskirts of the place, near the shore of the
bay. This is occupied by a bronco dealer; a band of
some twenty or thirty mustangs, most of them half-
wild, are running about it.
A clean-limbed, black, graceful-looking mare, al-
ready saddled and bridled, is brought up to Estrella by
a negro boy. ‘T selected this one for you to ride to-
morrow,” remarked Hampton. “Now I’ll teach her
not to be skittish with a lady’s skirts hanging over her
flanks. When she’s learned to stand this she’ll prob-
ably be easy enough.”
Tying a big, flopping Mexican blanket about his
waist, he springs on the mustang mare, and Miss God-
frey sees an exhibition of horsemanship such as she
had never seen before, the real rough-and-tumble arti-
cle of the plains and prairies. On feeling the unusual
accoutrement the mare utters a shrill, piercing, neigh-
ing yell and rears up as if she would fall over back-
wards, then goes bucking all over the corral, until as
if despairing of getting rid of these whisking, clinging
things, that swishing about either flank drive her mad
with fear, the frantic creature clears the high stockade
with a tremendous bound and dashes madly forth, dis-
appearing in the stunted forest that surrounds the
corral.
Upon this struggle between man and beast Miss
Godfrey had looked in breathless silence. Now she
92
THE SPY COMPANY.
half-screams at the horse dealer : “Go after him.
He’s killed. He’s dying in the forest there!”
“Reckon not,” remarks the man with a contempla-
tive ejection of tobacco juice from his mouth. “The
Cap rides like a Comanche Injun.”
In proof of this the black mare soon afterwards
comes in sight, her ears down. As she lopes demurely
back Hampton says : “I reckon she’ll be all right to-
morrow morning.”
He springs off and directs the darkey boy : “Make
a girl of yourself with that blanket. Pomp ; mount the
filly and ride her a couple of hours more to get her ac-
customed to this harness.”
“You don’t think she’ll do me up, Massa?” says the
negro, doubtfully.
“Oh, not a bit. She wasn’t vicious; she was only
frightened. Otherwise, I wouldn’t trust you on her
back,” he adds to Miss Godfrey. “This little Mexican
saddle with its topaderos to save your feet from bram-
bles when you go through timber will be just the thing
for you.”
“Oh, how much trouble you’re taking for me,” says
the girl, thanking him also with her eyes.
“Well, as Tm in command. I’ve got to see every-
thing’s straight, and a good horse is most impor-
tant on the prairie. The speed and bottom of that
mare, who I reckon is about as smart a mustang as
there is in Southern Texas, may mean your life.”
The manner of this man of combat is quite tender
as he continues : “I don’t want to take you out on the
prairie uneducated. So I’ll teach you to use a
couple of little frontier trinkets I’ve secured for you.”
To the young lady’s dismay, he produces a pair of
quite handsome, but very serviceable, five-shooting
Colt’s pistols. “Dragoon ones would be a little too
THE SPY COMPANY.
93
heavy for your small hand/’ he suggests, “and you
will be able to kill mighty dead with these.”
“Kill with these? I — I am to use them?” she fal-
ters.
“If necessary. Now I’ll show you how. This place
is all right for a little instruction. I could have
taken you up to that shooting gallery in town, but the
lights there are not the lights of the prairie, and I want
you to learn this thing practically out in the open.”
With this the Captain explains the weapon to her,
shows her how to load its chambers and begins a two-
hours’ target practice that impresses Estrella, instruct-
ing her in the trick of snap shooting.
During this Miss Godfrey, chancing to make a bull’s-
eye, becomes elated and gets to laughing over it, cry-
ing “This is fun !” But is rather disconcerted to be
told quite sternly ; “This is business, and the grim-
mest business in the world. People who talk about
fun with revolvers haven’t seen the awful things the
weapon can do when properly handled. Look there !”
A rooster some twenty yards away on a neighboring
fence is stretching its neck in full cock-a-doodle. To
the crack of the Ranger’s pistol the handsome bird,
stricken in its triumph, falls dead with his head half-
carried off his body.
“Now we will go at it seriously again,” commands
her preceptor, and keeps his pretty pupil pulling trig-
ger till the lengthening shadows of the trees begin to
show the approach of evening. “Reckon you’ll do for
the present,” he says. “You’ve got nerve enough.
Only be careful, if you want to make a very sure shot,
to hold your breath as you touch the trigger, and never
pull until you see something in front of your sights.
You can’t kill anything by blazing away at the uni-
verse.”
As he assists her into the ambulance to drive back
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to the hotel he remarks : “J^st as well take these and
keep ’em with you,” and puts the pistols into her hands.
“Always convenient to have such things ready in this
part of the world,” he suggests. “Handle them and
get acquainted with them. Some day you may find
them the best friends you have on this earth. Use
them on your enemies, but keep one last shot for your-
self, for I say to you, as I do to all women on this fron-
tier, as you love yourself, don’t let the Comanches take
you alive. That would be my advice to my sister or
my wife or my mother.”
As he speaks the Captain’s face for a moment fright-
ens his listener. She can see by the light of the set-
ting sun his clean-cut features twitch with an agony
of retrospection, and his eyes glint with the same pecul-
iar expression that Miss Godfrey had seen in them
when he spoke to the gambler — only more cruelly
deadly. Then this fades away into a look of unutter-
able sadness.
“You — you’re thinking of something that makes
you suffer,” whispers Estrella, sympathetically.
“Soiuething I mustn’t let my mind dwell on,” mut-
ters the Texan. With an effort he apparently puts
from him some heart-breaking recollection and goes
to chatting with the young lady on their preparations
for their journey of the morrow. So they ride up
the main street of the town. Looking at him, she
cannot help wondering what can have been the former
life of this man, into whose hands she is about to place
herself so absolutely, so unguardedly. She remem-
bers he has never mentioned his family or his previ-
ous experiences save in the line of a Ranger’s duty.
But gazing at his clean-cut features and his direct,
brilliantly frank eyes, and remembering that he always
looks everybody very straight in the face — except her,
as their ambulance stops in front of the Goliad House
NO GOLD FROM YOU
THE SPY COMPANY.
95
Miss Godfrey places her little hand fearlessly in his
and steps out quite confident that she has made no
mistake in trusting the Texas Captain.
The frontier town has sprung into greater activity
with the approach of evening. The oil lamps in the
barrooms are commencing to twinkle merrily. The
big canvas sign over the Bella Union is illuminated
by candles stuck behind it. In front of this dance
house are gathered quite a crowd of cattlemen, their
pockets full of Uncle Sam’s money from the sale
to the Government commissary of beeves looted from
Mexican rancheros on the Rio Grande, a sprinkling of
gamblers, and a few troopers wearing the American
uniform, sutlers’ boys and mule-packers; in addition
are the usual Mexican off-scouring of a border town,
leperos, poblanas and the like.
From this concourse comes boisterous, uncouth
applause, mixed with the sounds of guitar and
mandolin and the merry jingle of tambourine. A
bright, flexible, girlish voice is singing with soubrette
archness that pretty Mexican melody, '‘Las Ninas de
Durango” There is a vivacious abandon and piquan-
cy in the sweet tones that attracts Estrella. She
glances across the street, but cannot distinguish the
performer, the crowd is so close about her, though a
bright swish of brilliant color now and again under
the big oil lamp in front of the Bella Union indicates
there is dancing as well as singing.
Further inspection is interrupted by a wild yell from
the outskirts of the crowd. “Hoop-la ! Hi-yi-ki-yi !
Hoop-la! Why, if it ain’t Sharpe Hampton I” A
long, lank, slashing frontiersman, dressed in the buck-
skins and coon cap of the hunter, with a dark mus-
tache and sparkling jet eyes, comes loping across the
street and cries again: “Cap Hampton! Oh, this
96
THE SPY COMPANY.
will make the Greasers feel real good. They've been
waiting for ye here !”
“Why, this is luck," says her escort, holding out a
welcoming hand. “Harry Love, Wild Harry."
Then, in answer .to Miss Godfrey’s questioning face,
he explains : “Harry Love has ridden beside me and
pulled trigger with me since we first met on the Mier
Expedition."
“Hy-Ki, whar we Dotn drewed white beans together
and lived on rattlesnake and cactus dressin’ while we
war gitting out from the Greasers," returns the fron-
tiersman, who apparently is a slap-dash, nervous, and
at times seems almost a flighty, man. Then he chuckles
suddenly: “But I don’t know yer!"
“Why not?"
“Why, ye’re not smoking tobacco."
“I’ve reformed the habit."
“Oh, Captain, is that the reason you have been chew-
ing straws all day?" laughs the girl. “You didn’t
think smoke was pleasing to me.’’
“Oho !’’ guffaws the Texan Ranger, putting his
eyes on Miss Godfrey. “Ye’ve got him in trainin’,
have ye, Mrs. Hampton? I’ve heard. Cap, that
ye’ve jest come down from New Orleans, but Great
Taylor! I didn’t think ye’d got anything as purty as
that. She must have been raised in Tennessee. That’s
the only place they hatch such gals. My sakes, if she
ain’t as bashful as a young lady possum !’’
For at this astounding outburst Estrella’s face has
grown rosy as the setting sun.
"Not Mrs. Hampton," remarks the Captain, getting
very red himself. “You always were half-crazy,
Harry, anyway. This is Miss Godfrey, Jim Godfrey’s
daughter, whom I’m going to take up to her father’s
ranch. Live Oaks, upon the Atascosa Creek. You
may have heard of the place."
THE SPY COMPANY.
97
'^Heerd of the place. Hoop-la, hi-yi, I war raised
than’’
At this astonishing statement Estrella’s eyes grow
big and she half-gasps : “You — you were raised there?”
“From the time I war knee high,” rejoins Love,
quite earnestly.
“Then you’re the man I want,” says Hampton,
eagerly. “You will help me take this young lady
there?”
“Not if I kin help it,” answers Harry, his face grow-
ing gloomy. “I’ve no notion of looking on that ’ere
ranch again,” he mutters, doggedly. “Ye see, I
haven’t put my eyes on the place since I war a boy of
twelve, the night it war wiped out by the Comanches.”
“Why, I thought it was Mexicans !” cries Estrella.
“Well, it warn’t, though the Mexicans war so proud
of gettin’ the credit of that ’ere butcherin’ they never
denied it. But what’s the difference whether it war
Red devils or Yaller devils. My poor ole mummy
and my ole man war rubbed out thar, though I escaped
somehow, as they were burning the place, and found
myself out of my head upon a bare-backed mustang
way up towards Gonzales when I hit my senses.”
Love’s bright eyes have a look of haunting horror in
them. But after a moment he continues more calm-
ly : “I guess I’m the only one alive from that ’ere
massacree.”
“And so you knew my father ?” says Miss Godfrey^
a tender tone in her sweet voice.
“Knew him ? Does a pup know the boss dorg of the
pack? It war only a piece of luck that old Jim God-
frey war out prospectin’ and locatin’ land when the
redskins jumped us, or he’d gone up with his outfit'
also.” The frontiersman looks at the young lady
again and goes on : “I — I reckon I likewise know
ye, if ye’re little ’Strella. Don’t ye remember Wild
98
THE SPY COMPANY.
Harry, the boy as used to catch birds and cottontail
rabbits and red squirrels for ye to play with?’'
“No,” answers Miss Godfrey, looking at him in-
tently and passing her white hand over her brow,
“though I’m ’Strella.”
“No rekellection ? Reckon ye war too young. Why,
Lord bless ye, I war round when yer little sister war
run off by the Mexicans or Injuns, in eighteen thirty
or thereabouts. Ye’ve heerd of her, I calculate?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of Sybil,” murmurs the girl in sub-
dued voice. Then she queries, eagerly : “You’ve
seen my father since his ranch was destroyed ?”
“Nary a time. Since that cursed Mier Expedition^
whar me and the Cap and all of us war nearly rubbed
out. I’ve been most of the time down on the lower Rio
Grande pickin’ up cattle and making things even with
the Yaller bellies,” answers Love. “I’ve got Uncle
Sammy’s gold in my buckskins now for a lot of steers
I drove in to-day. Every head of ’em lifted from our
friends, the Greasers.” This last in the righteous
tone of duty well performed.
“Anyway, you’ve got to go with me as far as God-
frey’s rancho,” rejoins Hampton, earnestly. “You’ve
got to do it, Harry. It’s a duty you owe to Jim God-
frey’s daughter.”
“And I’ll do my duty to Jim Godfrey’s darter,
not only for her purty face, off which ye can’t keep
yer eyes, Sharpe Hampton, but because her dad war
a mighty square man with my dad when I war a little
boy, and her mammy, God bless her, war very kind to
my poor ole mummy.”
“Very well; meet me here at the Goliad House this
evening,” whispers the Captain, who sees that Estrella
is quite moved at encountering one who had known
her father and her mother when she was a little child.
“Right ye are. Count on me until I’m rubbed out.”
THE SPY COMPANY.
99
^‘Thank you, Harry,*' remarks Hampton, quietly,
and knows if he has secured an erratic, half-crazy man,
that he has also obtained a very sure shot and a very
true spirit to back him up in his journey across the
prairies.
This conversation, held in the open street, has been
quite private. The music of the guitar and mandolin
and the song of the girl opposite have kept observation
from them.
But now there seems to be a commotion, almost a
struggle, in the little crowd. The tambourine girl is
crying: ‘T will speak to him. Caspita, why not? If
you’re afraid of the Texan Captain, mi patron, Tm
not, even if he has got his war paint on.” And the
dancing girl, in the easy dishabille of Mexico made
more pronounced by the costume of her profession,
comes running across the street, and holds out a tam-
bourine, crying, in fairly good English and almost
without accent: '‘Un peso, senor, for a song and
dance !”
A snowy chemisette drapes the upper portion of
her rounded and yet lithely graceful figure, which
is that of a young girl, though its scant cut and
the careless manner of its fastening permit glimpses
of a nymph-like bosom perfect in its development.
Her waist is girdled with a bright red sash, from which
floats a short nagua of brilliant colors scarce reaching
to the knees, displaying legs graceful as a fawn’s and
browned by the sun, for they are stockingless, which
taper into little blue dancing slippers. Her face is
wrapped coquettishly by the rehoso tapado, or floating
scarf, with which the Mexican ladies conceal their
faces.
As Hampton gazes carelessly at her she says, almost
droopingly: “Don’t you remember the dancing girl
to whom two years ago in Matamoras you tossed a
L.ofC.
lOO
THE SPY COMPANY.
golden doubloon as she danced on the plaza, turned
away and forgot her? Don’t you remember ” she
is drawing away archly the rehozo, “don’t you remem-
ber?” She tosses off the scarf and exhibits deep
brown eyes flashing in coquettish vivacity. As she
puts them on Hampton these become languishing, as
if almost beseeching his recognition.
“By Jove, Carmelita!” says the Texan, suddenly.
“Ah, you remember me. Dios mio, you remember !
Carmelita is happy,” and she breaks out into a laugh-
ing Spanish song, then suddenly changes it to that
sweetest of all Spanish melodies :
“Cuando me llaman honita,
El corazon me palpita.”
And, courtesying gracefully before the Texan Ranger,
holds out again her tambourine.
Into it Hampton, with Ranger prodigality, tosses
a gold piece.
'‘Cielo, I’ve got the mate of it, the one you gave me
at Matamoras. I took a few beatings to keep it, but
I’ve got it still.”
Miss Godfrey is placing another gold piece in the
tambourine, but the girl turns from her and says, petu-
lantly : “No, not from you.”
“Why not, little one?”
'‘I only take money from gentlemen. I don’t rob
ladies. What I get is from the cattle thieves, the
monte men and the Gringo soldier boys. Like to hear
their boss tune?” She raises up her voice and begins to
sing “Molly Is the Gal For Me” with such enthusi-
asm and abandon, such winks and grimaces, that a
few of Uncle Sam’s soldiers, who are lounging about,
join in the chorus and go into an impromptu dance in
high cavalry boots as the crowd throw money to her.
When Estrella again would add her douceur she de-
THE SPY COMPANY.
lOI
dines, half-angrily : “None from j^ou ; none from
ladies, only from Caballeros,” then jeers: “If my
patren over there sees me refuse gold, how he is curs-
ing poor Carmelita.” Here noting the expression on
Miss Godfrey’s face, she breaks out almost savagely:
“Don’t you dare to pity me, Senorita Hidalga!”
“And why not ?” asks Estrella, looking at the slight,
graceful, willowy waif of the frontier before her, whose
eyes have in them a kind of pathetic anguish.
“Why not? Caramha, because I’m too proud and
too tough. Besides, I don’t care for the sympathy of
women. The good sisters up in Chihuahua tried to
make me a nun, but Los hombres por meT
Running to Hampton, who is still in consultation
with Love, she cries : “Come to the fandango to-
night, Capitano mio. There you’ll see me dance the
Habanero and the cachucha civilized, wearing silk
stockings and dressed Paris fashion.” She puts her
lips to his ear and whispers, “Come,” a pleading in-
tensity in her voice, “Come ; she won’t miss you for a
little time.”
Before Hampton can reply the girl is again dancing
through the crowd, singing “Molly Is the Gal For
Me” with even more roguish abandon than before.
At its close she throws her admirers a mocking kiss or
two and cries : “Adios, Caballeros, don’t forget Car-
melita dances to-night at the Bella Union !” She takes
one quick glance at Miss , Godfrey who stands, the
exponent of civilization in light semi-tropical trav-
elling dress, looking daintily nonchalant despite heat
and dust, and snarls: ''Diablo! wouldn’t I like to pull
you off your high horse, Doha Hidalga !” Even as
she jingles her tambourine and skips into the dancing
hall there are tears in the eyes of the frontier soubrette.
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THE SPY COMPANY.
CHAPTER VIIL
‘"to save him, I SPARE HER!”
During this Harry, who has sauntered to the side
of Miss Godfrey, is whispering to her effusively and
proudly in backwoods candor : “Hi-yi, look at Carmelita
trying to scalp Hampton; the Cap’s always the high
hand with the gals. But don’t let that worry ye !
Didn’t I see two of the purtiest poblanas in San An-
tone slash each other nigh into cat meat with machetes
because the Cap wouldn’t look at either of ’em ? Bless
yer sun-bonnet, Sharpe’s as fastidious with women-
kind as a coyote is with pizened venison.”
Apparently this eulogy does not impress Miss God-
frey over-favorably. As Carmelita makes her adieu
to the crowd Estrella raises up her voice, a slight cold-
ness in it, and addresses the object of Wild Harry’s
encomiums, saying: "T think I’ll go in. Frontier
gaiety rather fatigues me. Captain Hampton.”
So passing up the rickety stairway, accompanied by
the Ranger officer, who has called a negro boy to carry
her baggage, she reaches the balcony of the Goliad
House. Here Zelma, having come at her call, she
points to the bundles and hastily directs : “Pack these
very carefully for our journey.” Then turning to
Hampton, she nonchalantly remarks: “I believe you
said five o’clock in the morning was the hour of our
departure. At that time you will find Zelma and me
ready.” The fluttering of dainty skirts indicates she
has departed.
To this cool adieu Hampton takes off his hat po-
litely, and, minus the young lady’s presence, remarks
ruefully to himself: “Well, I’m hanged! I’ve seen
northers blow up mighty sudden, but women are quick-
er.” He comes down the steps rather moodily, to be
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103
joined by Wild Harry, who whispers in an impressive
tone: “Mighty fine gal, that sah! Would be fine
even in Tennessee,” then goes on, buoyantly: “I’ve
been say in’ a good word for yer, Cap.” Getting no
answer to this, he chuckles : “Snakes and ’gators,
how that dancing gal does hate Jim Godfrey’s lily
darter !”
“Why the devil should Carmelita hate Miss God-
frey?” asks Hampton, savagely.
“You !” is the curt, but suggestive rejoinder. “Ever
since down in Matamoras ye saved Carmelita a lickin’
from her patron, she’s grown as slick to ye as cata-
mounts are to catnip.”
“Nonsense! You’re crazy. Wild Harry!”
“Not much I Folks think I’m out of my cabeza, but
I ain’t. I’m only cute, real cute, cute as a coyote;
that’s all. T’other one’s kinder taken with yer, too,”
remarks the frontier philosopher, and goes off, leaving
Hampton gazing after him, his eyes sparkling at his
last suggestion.
But the glance of the Ranger Captain grows colder
as, somewhat later in the evening, he sees loping down
the street on a dusty and hard-ridden charger hand-
some young Pelham of May’s Dragoons, who checks
his horse suddenly in front of the Goliad House, throws
his reins to the orderly that is following him and, with
clanking sabre and jingling spurs, springs up the rick-
ety stairs of the hotel.
As the dragoon is admitted by Zelma, Hampton
mutters, sotto voce: “By the Lord, that’s why she
choked me off so short. Didn’t want my presence to
put a damper upon young West Point’s honeyed
speeches,” and grows much more down-hearted than
he has need to be.
For the Ranger’s backwoods life, away from the
artifices, affectations and emotions that give uncer-
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THE SPY COMPANY.
tainty yet charm to the fair sex, has taught him little
about the varying moods of maidenhood. Perchance,
with greater experience he would be happier than he
is this evening; though he has not heard Wild
Harry’s panegyric and does not know how good a
word that harum-scarum frontiersman has said for
him.
‘‘Anyway, no matter how she treats me, she needs
me ! And I’m her man till I’ve placed her safe in her
father’s arms,” says this knight of the prairies quietly
to himself. Though as he steps down the street to
look after his outfit and equipment for the morrow’s
journey, chancing to light a very fine Havana, he finds
it extremely bitter to his mouth.
But Providence has other blows for the Ranger’s
heart this evening.
The fifes and drums are sounding the distant reveille
from Taylor’s Camp. Its baggage- wagons are parked
ready for morning departure; its provost guard is
rounding up those absent from the lines without leave
preparatory to early marching on the morrow. The
night has fallen upon the frontier outpost town, mak-
ing it even more repulsive to the eyes of the young
lady transplanted from the North than it • had been
in sunshine.
Still, Estrella is in passingly good spirits as she
paces the little veranda in front of the Goliad House
with dashing young Pelham, whose sabre clanks as his
footsteps accommodate themselves to her shorter ones.
The young officer has chatted long and earnestly
with her, telling her of his life on the plains of Ne-
braska and in the^ wildernesses of Iowa, where he has
been scouting during most of the two years since he
saw her at Saratoga. His eyes have spoken more than
his words, indicating tliat perchance his tongue might
say a great deal did he not deem it wise to chain it
THE SPY COMPANY.
.105
upon the commencement of a campaign which makes
it hardly fair to ask a girl to endure the agonies of a
soldier’s fiancee.
But Miss Godfrey knows just as well as she did in
Saratoga what this bright-eyed, handsome fellow
would say to her. She knows also that she has had
his heart while he has been away from her, at least she
thinks she has. This causes her to be tender to him,
as he asks, anxiously : “You’re sure Captain Hamp-
ton has made every arrangement for your safe jour-
ney ?”
"Certain as that he has the experience to know what
I require,” replies the young lady. “Why, the Ranger
has even broken a horse for my special riding with
skirts, and has taught me to shoot a pistol so I can
hit the bull’s-eye once in a while. He is making a
frontier girl of me,” she adds, laughingly.
At this pleasant information Mr. Pelham looks very
grave, but says, generously: “Yes, he’s doing the
right thing by you. He’s probably the very best man
on the border to make your journey across the
prairies safe.”
Just here a corporal dashes up, and saluting, cries:
“Lieutenant Pelham, the platoon are having a hard
time up at the General Jackson saloon.”
The noise of a scuffle between some drunken soldiers
and the troopers of the provost guard, who are trying
to round them up, at a neighboring grog shop, pro-
duces from the girl a slightly frightened exclamation
and from the officer a mental curse. “You’ll excuse
me for a moment. Miss Godfrey,” says the dragoon.
“I’ve got to look after this, but I’ll be back in a min-
ute.”
The Lieutenant springs down the steps, leaving Es-
trella shuddering at the sights and noises of a frontier
town in the full glory of its faro splendor.
THE SPY COMPANY.
io6
The windows of all the gambling saloons are raised,
the night being hot. From them, the noise of carous-
ing men and the execrations of losing gamesters come,
mingled with the laughter of ladies who love every man
and the jabber of the mixed population, Mexican,
Yankee, Negro and Mestizo.
Opposite, the big doors of cheap glass which make
the front of the Bella Union are thrown wide open. In-
to it, lured by the music of a Mexican stringed orches-
tra that is playing a Jullien polka and the strident voices
of its hurdy gurdy girls, are thronging a motley con-
course of civilian camp followers of Taylor’s army
leavened by a contingent of Uncle Sam’s boys who have
as yet dodged the provost marshal.
It is but a short thirty yards across the street. The
oil lamps of the dance house are burning very brightly
and the sights within it have a kind of weird, uncanny
fascination for this import from civilization. Looking
through the wide open doors over the heads of drink-
ers and roysterers, Estrella sees Carmelita dancing
with the languishing abandon of the Spanish the soft
cachucha as she snaps the castenets.
For a moment the young American lady forgets all
else except the vivacious charm of the danseuse. For
bizarre effect, though it is a Spanish dance, Carmelita is
robed not after the manner of Castile, but after the
style of Paris. Her brocade frock, silken stockings
and red satin hottines seem to add to her diablerie. To
Miss Godfrey the very beauty of the girl makes her
reckless abandon sadly repulsive. She shudders and
turns from the sight ; then screams and gazes horrified.
There are quick flashes of pistols in the dancing hall
and over their reports the screams of women ; people
are flying from the open doors of the Bella Union, and
a man falls wounded in the street below her.
As this happens, she is suddenlv dragged into the
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107
house by an athletic arm; the closing door muffling
the sounds of a cavalry platoon dashing down the
street and Pelham’s voice shouting hasty orders to his
men as they enter the dancing saloon and round up
Uncle Sam’s deserters and put order in the place.
“Never look at a fight that you haven’t any business
v/ith, Miss Godfrey,” suggests Hampton. The crash
of a window stricken by a bullet emphasizes his re-
mark. As he leads her back into her room he says :
“While the scrimmage is going on in the street, I’ll
show you and your maid how to do up the bundles
convenient for the pack saddle.”
“Oh, thank you,” replies Estrella, effusively. “I’m
afraid our efforts have not been altogether successful.”
As Hampton aids the young lady in her arrange-
ments, they are interrupted by Him Jones, who, after
rapping on the door, comes in and says : “That provost-
marshal Lieutenant is out on the veranda. He asked
me to tell you that as he doesn’t like to leave his men,
Miss Godfrey, he’d be almightily obleeged if you’d jest
step out and say good-bye to him before he rides off
to the Rio Grande.”
“Of course, I will,” cries Estrella, and passes has-
tily from the room, leaving the Ranger still engaged
with her baggage.
As she steps on to the veranda, the town has grown
normal once more, judging by the twanging of the
mandolins and guitars that greet her from the Bella
Union dance house.
Leaving his orderly waiting for him with his charger,
the young officer runs up the steps very eagerly to the
side of the young lady. “I hope this wretched trou-
ble in the dance house didn’t alarm you. Miss God-
frey,” he says, deprecatingly. “It won’t occur again,
as we’ve gathered in about every man without leave
in the town,” adding severely: “I rather imagine
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there’ll be some bucking and gagging up at the guard-
house for this ; but I’m awfully sorry for the row !”
“And why?” This is a very rash question from the
young lady.
“Because it will shorten the time I had to say good-
bye to you,” answers the Lieutenant, his voice growing
so tender that it startles his listener. “I am compelled
to report this affair at headquarters. Some drunken
troopers have seriously injured two or three teamsters.
So as I’ve only a minute with you, I’m going to make
the best of it.”
They are standing well in the shadow of the build-
ing. The sign of the “Army of the Rio Grande Sa-
loon” projecting partly over this balcony from the next
building, shields them from the observation of the
street.
Miss Godfrey sees enough in the young fellow’s eyes
to warn her not to ask : “How ?” But not waiting for
the question, Charley proceeds to answer it with West
Point strategy. He whispers : “It wouldn’t be right
to tell you how much I feel, now that I’m going cer-
tainly to battle, perhaps to death ”
“Oh, don’t say that !” cries the girl, drawn by this
artful touch into tender voice.
“Thank you for that tone,” answers the young man
in enthusiastic ardor. “You’re kinder to me now than
you were at Saratoga. Then you pleaded the child.
Now that you are a woman — you remember I told you
I would bring back your souvenir!” He pulls from
his breast the piece of the American flag. “I’ve car-
ried it here in Indian skirmishes up on the Missouri
-and it has been my fetich. I’ll wear it on my heart
down on the Rio Grande, and if I come back. I’ll see
if you won’t give me for it what I want most in all this
world.”
Few young girls are wholly adamant to such a
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lOQ
Speech, when uttered by a long moustachioed, shoulder-
strapped fellow of gallant bearing and flashing eyes,
especially when he is going to battle and perchance to
cruel death. Under the softness of the Texan night,
the strains of the mandolins and guitars playing soft
Spanish melody from the Bella Union, with only two
friends in this place so cut off from the world she has
just left, Estrella feels the sadness of parting with
even one of them and her beautiful eyes fill with tears.
Gazing upon her delicate loveliness, the exquisite
refinement of this fair exile from civilization, made
more striking by the strange setting of this shanty
frontier town, the young officer grows very ardent ;
he whispers, his heart in his voice : “Say to me ‘Come
back.’ ’’ Receiving no answer, he pleads again : “Say
to me ‘Come back from battle.’ ”
“Oh, don’t talk of that. Of course, I — I hope you’ll
come back,” falters the young lady, her eyes full of
troubled sympathy, for in imagination she sees the
stricken field and this handsome fellow lying dead upon
it.
“God bless you for the words! God bless you and
— good-bye.” The dragoon’s tone and manner are so
impulsively possessive, she bashfully droops her head
and lowers her eyes. As she does so her forehead is
touched by two eager burning lips and brushed by a
long moustache. Before she can either protest or dis-
sent, a swinging clash of the door on the balcony in-
dicates the advent of the Texan Captain. Through the
panes of glass in its upper panel, he has seen what has
indicated more than it should. He says quietly : “Miss
Godfrey, I have made up your baggage with your
maid into bundles suitable for the pack saddle of the
mule. I think there is nothing further for me to say
to you except that to-morrow morning at five o^clock
1 10
THE SPY COMPANY.
I shall be here ready to take you on your way to your
father. Good evening.”
He raises his hat and passing quietly down the stair-
way, stands meditatively in front of the hotel. The
next moment he is joined by young Pelham, who has
whispered to Estrella: “Remember my souvenir!”
and come into the street after the Texan.
To the Ranger, the young officer says : “Captain
Hampton, you’re as capable as any man on this fron-
tier to make Miss Godfrey’s journey across the prairies
safe. You fortunately are not at present compelled by
military duty as I am to turn your face to the Rio
Grande.”
“No, but I will be mighty soon,” answers the Texan.
“Don’t doubt our boys’ll be with you before the scrim-
mage takes place.”
“Of that I am certain,” answers the dragoon, “for
we won’t get to work immediately. Uncle Sam’s boys
are to wait until they’ve been assaulted. Those are the
orders, I know, from Washington. In fact, every of-
ficer of the armv has been cautioned not to strike -first.
Therefore some one has to take the blow. Some
poor devil, not daring to order his troopers to draw
sabres or open fire, will have his command destroyed
and perhaps suffer court martial in order to enable our
Government at Washington to say: 'We did not in-
augurate hostilities. The Mexicans began the war.’ ”*
“Well, we Texans have no orders from Washington.
Besides, I don’t think you could prevent our boys from
shooting Greasers at sight, we’ve got so in the habit of
*This was the actual fate of Captain Thornton of the Dra-
goons, and he pleaded at Court Martial that his very orders for-
bade him to make any attack upon the Mexicans until they had
first assaulted his command. He was acquitted most honorably
by the Court. Memoirs of a Maryland Officer, by J. R. Ken-
ly.
THE SPY COMPANY.
Ill
it,’’ rejoins Hampton grimly, as the dragoon swings
himself into his saddle.
But here the light dies away in the Texan’s
eyes. Turning in his stirrups, Pelham seizes the
Ranger’s hand, wrings it and whispers : “Hampton,
you’re going to take the treasure of my life in your
keeping for delivery to her father. God forever bless
you for your kindness to her.” As the Captain starts
back as if the Lieutenant had struck him, Charley Pel-
ham claps his spurs into his steed and dashes up the
street, leaving a very heavy heart behind him. For
Sharpe is extremely simple in matters of love and
doesn’t reckon upon a young man’s enthusiastic speech
and doesn’t reason that though Estrella may be very
precious to Pelham, Pelham may not be so extremely
precious to her.
Therefore the Captain of Rangers goes on his way
very moodily this evening, and as he makes arrange-
ments for the coming journey, mutters mentally once or
twice: “I knew it. Anybody could have told that
up at Taylor’s camp. However, she needs me, and
when she gets through needing me. I’ll go out and —
thank God for a bloody war !”
Of this colloquy. Miss Godfrey, leaning listlessly
over the balcony, has heard enough to make her furious
with the fiery Pelham as blushingly she has fled
towards her rooms, and sank in bashful and
perturbed dismay upon a chair. She marvels at the
consternation that is in her as she reflects : “If Hamp-
ton saw that unexpected salute what will he
think? And now the crazy words of that impetuous
boy will make him suspect more!” Her confusion
is such that she scarce notices Zelma, who in a half-
hearted way has been sewing upon the Indian tunics
for their journey on the morrow.
But her reverie is broken in upon by her maid stand-
1X2
THE SPY COMPANY.
ing frightenedly before her and pleading “For the love
of mercy, don’t tell your father.”
Startled, Estrella looks up and asks : “Tell my
father what?”
“That I was going to — to run away from you with
Mr. Yazoo Sam,” falters the girl in agitated voice.
“Ever since Mr. Him Jones told me I was not to leave
this room, I knew you had discovered my — ^my foolish-
ness.”
“And so your idiotic notion for this gambler made
Captain Hampton risk his life on the steamboat to pre-
vent Mr. Yazoo Sam decoying you from me,” cries
Miss Godfrey, astonished at the anger that rises up in
her against her bondmaid.
But her indignation is checked by the appearance
of the culprit. Were it not for her handsomely devel-
oped figure and the passion that now and again lights
her eyes, though her cheeks are very pale, the young
woman, in her short-skirted soubrette frock, might
be a child shrinking from uplifted rod, as she
pleads: “In — in pity for me, don’t tell your father.”
“Of course, I shall have no secrets from my father.
Why should I not tell him?” answers her mistress
impulsively.
“Because every one here says he — he is the most
cruel master with his servants in all Texas,” stam-
mers the octoroon in broken voice with lips from which
fear has driven even the rich blood of the creole.
“Nonsense, he is goodness itself!” cries Estrella,
indignantly. “Those are some lies that frightful Yazoo
Sam told you to induce you to run away with him.”
To this she adds: “Why, for Heaven’s sake, if you
wished to leave me, did you not go, Zelma, when I gave
you your opportunity in New York? Then I could
have engaged some woman who would not have wanted
to desert me here in this wilderness.”
TtlE SPY COMPANY.
II3
“I did not want to leave you then, Madame,” says the
octoroon droopingly and tearfully. “Believe me, it was
only after 1 saw Mr. Sam. I had never been made
love to before by a handsome white gentleman, and
he had very tender ways.” Though, as she mentions
the gambler, the red blood of passion is surging in her
cheeks, crushed by her helpless situation, she pleads
brokenly : “Don’t — don’t tell your father.”
Before Miss Godfrey can answer, Mr. Jones comes
up stairs and with frontier hospitality offers supper.
“Thank you, nothing to eat this evening,” Estrella
says rather sadly. “But to-morrow morning, please,
at half-past four —
“You’ll have a real cute southwestern breakfast if
old Sally, my cook, sits up all night to get it,” remarks
the border landlord. Then noting the drooping ap-
pearance of Miss Godfrey’s culprit maid, he beckons
the mistress out in the hall and whispers impressively :
“Ye’ve diski vered her didos, but jest a light breshing
with a hickory, and for God’s sake, don’t say nothin’
about yer wench’s wanting to run away to your dad.
Jim Godfrey’s the toughest man with niggers west of
the Sabine,” and so goes solemnly away, leaving Es-
trella shocked and stunned.
“I can’t believe what you say about my father. You
don’t know him as well as I !” she cries after Jones in
wounded indignation. But after a moment, coming
into the room, this young lady, who has gradually dis-
covered that companionship between her and Zelma is
a practical impossibility where slavery exists, says; “I
appreciate the devotion that brought you with me to
this place. I shall always protect you, Zelma. Though
I cannot believe my father is the severe man people
here seem to think him, I shall say nothing to him.
The episode is forgotten !”
“Thank you — thank yon,” murmurs her maid, grate-
fully, and kisses her hand.
14
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Anyway/' continues Miss Godfrey, “if papa is such
an ogre, I should be as frightened of him as you. As
his daughter I owe him obedience and I’m going to
give him it from my very soul ; my dear father !”
Tears of anticipation, hope and love well up in her
beautiful eyes. “Now," she adds in attempted light-
ness, “let us get our garments ready for to-morrow.
Perhaps we’ll have an interesting day upon the prai-
ries."
Perhaps Miss Godfrey will have an interesting day
upon the prairies.
Even at this moment, looking out through a broken
window from the upper story of one of the saloons
opposite, the dancing girl is dejectedly disarraying her-
self of some cheap though gaudy finery used during
her performance in the evening, and muttering mental-
ly: “He never came to see me dance. Others ap-
plauded, but his hands were not there."
Beside her sits her patron languidly smoking a cig-
arette. He is a fierce but cunning-eyed Mexican,
dressed as an extreme dandy of the northern provinces.
By his side lies a black manga, but at present a cambric
shirt snowy and fastened with jewelled studs covers
the upper portion of his lithe, snakelike person. His
slim waist is belted by a broad red sash, in which is
stuck a nasty-looking stiletto and a pair of horse pis-
tols. His legs are cased in silver-mounted calzaneros
of corduroy velveteen that are tight as his yellow skin
as far as the knee, but from there are open, coming
down bell fashion over his feet and permitting white
drawers to show along the open seams. To his high
untanned leather boots are strapped heavy, long-rowel-
led spurs. A broad-brimmed grey sombrero, trimmed
with a two-inch band of gold bullion, lies ready to his
hand.
This Caballero is handling his cigarette with one
THE SPY COMPANY.
”5
brown hand and is counting with the avaricious and
nervous fingers of the other, the money from the danc-
ing girl’s tambourine.
This being finished, as he pockets the silver coins, he
looks towards the Goliad House and remarks, half to
himself : “Over there is Don Jaime Godfrey’s daugh-
ter, the greatest rica in all of Texas. To-morrow
morning she goes across the prairie, doubtless with lit-
tle escort.”
‘'Bueno, you have some fine idea, judging by your
face,” whispers the dancing girl — “about her?”
“An idea that will make us rich. The Yankee army
marches south. She goes towards the north. Canales’
troop of voluntarios rancheros isn’t half a night’s ride
towards the west. What kind of a ransom would not
Don Jaime pay for his daughter?”
“Ah, you mean to seize Dona High-horse,” whispers
the girl, clapping her hands excitedly. “Bravo, she
who offered me money in his presence, she whom he
looked at and scarce had eyes for me.”
‘‘Diablo,” snarls the man, “ you mean the accursed
Texan Ranger Captain of whom you always think.”
“And whom you always fear,” breaks in the girl.
“Whom you, Senor Bandit and Senor White Liver and
Senor Bully, dare not face lest he will recognize you as
the bandit who loves flowers yet steals cattle and mur-
ders the helpless along the Texas frontier.” A smile
ripples her vivacious features and she cries : “M adre
mia, how I laugh when I think how he pulled the
quirta from your hand and thrashed you with it in
the plaza at Matamoras, the night you were going to
beat me. That’s two years since. You beat me no
more. My little stiletto, the last time, was so nearly
fatal eh, mi amigo?” Then the mocking jeer in her
voice changes to an eager intensity. “But you want
Il6 THE SPY COMPANY.
me to do something that will injure her. I am at
your service.’’
''I wish you to find out who rides with Senorita
Godfrey to-morrow morning.”
''Santos, I’ll do it !” answers Carmelita. ''But have
a care you do your part. Play double with me and I
shall whisper you are an espia for Carrabijol and Can-
ales upon the Yankee soldiers. Then how long do you
think you’ll live, my poor Florito? Cielo, your face is
as white as your liver now.” As the man shudders from
her, she says gaily : “I’ll go over and sing a serenade
to Senorita Yankee and find out who takes care of her
on the prairie.”
Picking up her guitar, she runs down the stairs, trips
across the street, dashes into the Goliad House, gives
a dainty feminine rap on Miss Godfrey’s door, and
sings in her sweetest voice a charming little Spanish
melody.
As the portal is opened she cries to Estrella :
“By your eyes, I knew you liked music as I sang to-
day. Have another song from Carmelita before you
sleep? Ah, you have a guitar, too. You sing like me.
Your eyes seemed to pity me to-day.”
She is about to spring into the room, but the young
lady from the North looks coldly upon this pretty but
outre creature in the gaudy finery of a frontier sou-
brette.
Actuated partly by Anglo-Saxon indifference and
partly by what she has heard of this girl’s passion for
Captain Hampton, she is about to say: “Excuse me
this evening. I’m tired,” when Carmelita, catching the
denial of her eye, cries suddenly : “No music ! Like
to hear the story of a waif of the border, who never
knew a mother’s kiss, who never knew a father’s
arms ?”
“Come in,” says Miss Godfrey, impulsively. “Come
THE SPY COMPANY.
II7
in!” Then she whispers sadly: 'T had a sister who,
were she alive, might say the same as you. Come in,
pretty one.”
“Ha, you’re opening your arms for me. You don’^
think I’m a little snake. That’s right; trust Car-
melita!” and dancing into the room the delicate and
agile creature almost nestles in Miss Godfrey’s lap,
and artfully tells her a very sad story of how she had
no recollection of parents, but had been taken by the
Good Sisters of Chihuahua, who wanted to make her
a nun, but that feeling too gay for a convent, she had
run away, and under the patronage of Florito had be-
come the most celebrated dancing girl of the north of
Mexico. '‘Dios, you should see me at fairs in the
plazas of Monterey and Matamoras. Hum, the men.
loved me !” she says archly. “The women — ” she
shrugs her shoulders — “not so much ! But you — ”
And she gets prattling with Miss Godfrey till she learns
the details of Estrella’s journey and now doesn’t dare
to refuse that young lady’s gold.
But coming from this interview, as soon as Car-
melita is out of observation of the Goliad House,
she dashes Uncle Sam’s good double eagle into the
mud, stamps upon it viciously with both little feet, and
says: “Not from her! Not from her!” then pauses
and half reels and sighs brokenly : “My God, he — he
protects her across the prairies.”
So coming in before her patron who is eagerly
awaiting her report, she remarks: “There’s no good
trying to attack this American young lady, my poor
Florito. She has a whole company of dragoons to
accompany her to San Antonio de Bexar.”
For a moment the Mexican looks disappointed and
dismayed, then he bursts out at her: “You — you mis-
erable little liar ! She has nothing of the kind. All of
Il8 THE SPY COMPANY.
the Yankee soldiers march south to-morrow. Tell me
the truth.”
''Diablo, I have, straight as if I’d sw'orn it on the
Virgin !” she answers resolutely.
‘‘You traitor !” He raises threatening hand.
"Caramha” whispers the girl, “why should I not
tell you the truth when I hate her because he loves
her?”
“Under those circumstances I expect you have,”
mutters Florito. “But if not — !” He goes away, a
very nasty threatening in his snaky eyes.
Looking after him the dancing girl cries to herself :
^'Santos, how I hate her ; but I love him ! I have lied to
protect him from those murderous lancers of Canales.
To save him, I spare her : but Santa Maria, she shall not
have mi cahallero! I have loved him ever since he
saved me from Florito’s cruel hand, and loved — ^no one
else. And yet, Dios de mi alma, under her very eyes
he tossed his doubloon to me as if I were a beggar.”
And this girl who had been roguishness and abandon
and gaiety itself before the guffawing crowd of the
frontier street, throws herself down upon a dirty couch
of sheepskin and sobs and sighs as if her sprightly soul
would leave her beautiful body.
BOOK III.
Frontier Chivalry.
CHAPTER IX.
THE PASSIONS OF THE PRAIRIE.
The fifes and drums are sounding the reveille and the
bugles “Boots and Saddles” from Taylor’s camp, as
Hampton pauses with his outfit in the rear of the Go-
liad House, thinking it wisest that his exodus with
his fair charge from this frontier town should be un-
noticed.
His caballada consists of a mule and four mustangs,
including the black mare selected for Miss Godfrey.
These are all caparisoned in Mexican style, though the
trappings on Estrella’s steed are of somewhat lighter
material and more ornamental workmanship than the
others. To each saddle is attached that useful article
for prairie travel, the lasso.
The pack mule, which is the regulation Mexican
article as regards temper, stubbornness and intelli-
gence, bears also the regulation Mexican pack saddle
and is haltered so as to be led by Mr. Love.
Both frontiersmen are in the full array of the back-
woods, sombreros and buckskin suits, each of their
belts holding a brace of heavy revolvers and a long
buckhorn-handled bowie-knife. Hampton in addition
has two big dragoon six shooters in his holster, but to
(”9)
120
THE SPY COMPANY.
leave his arms free for the assistance and guidance of
I\liss Godfrey, has his rifle slung cavalry fashion over
his back. Wild Harry carries his long Kentucky wea-
pon Western style across the pommel of his saddle.
As Miss Godfrey has promised, she doesn’t keep
them waiting. Him Jones immediately makes his ap;
pearance from the back door of the Goliad House, car-
rying the young lady’s bundles, which he proceeds to
adjust on to the pack-saddle of the mule, the animal
as usual flinging his heels about and cutting up in true
burro fashion.
As this is being done, two putative Indian girls make
their appearance and come timidly out of the hotel.
They are Miss Godfrey and her attendant, Zelma.
“Geehosh — Nebuchadnezzar!” remarks Mr. Love
under his voice ; and immediately slings Estrella’s maid
with free and easy hand upon her saddle and arranges
it for her, while Hampton with somewhat more cere-
mony assists Miss Godfrey to mount man-fashion the
dainty black mare he has selected for her.
On it Estrella makes a very pretty Indian picture.
The soft fawn-skin of her tunic, which reaches some-
what below the knees, outlines her rounded graces of
bust and shoulders. From beneath its skirts are poked
out very diffidently tight buckskin leggings, that as
they taper into the little beaded Indian moccasins, dis-
play beauties hitherto unknown to the ardent frontiers-
man.
“You look quite active and frontier-like,” he says re-
assuringly as he gazes at the girl, who hangs her head
bashfully.
“Oh, I feel light as a fawn,” remarks the dainty
equestrienne, then adds gratefully : “Thank you, the
stirrup leathers are just right,” and asks: “What do
you call my mare ?” as she caresses the graceful black
head that is turned towards her.
THE SPY COMPANY.
121
“Mulefoot,” says the frontiersman.
“My, what a fimny name. Why do they call her
that?”
“Because her hoofs are formed like a mule’s, which
makes her more sure-footed for your journey,” answers
the Ranger, patting the mare’s graceful neck also ; like
all true horsemen, he loves the faithful companions of
his adventures and his forays.
“Pistols all right?” he asks earnestly.
“Yes, I — I think so. I loaded them as you instructed
me, very carefully,” she remarks as Hampton draws
the five-shooters from the cases in which they are lying
on the ground, and examines them carefully. “But I
didn’t know exactly how to wear them.”
“I’ll show you.” As he places the belt about her,
he suddenly pauses and laughs: “I reckon this is
all of a foot too big for you.” Making the necessary
hole in the leather, he buckles it about the young lady’s
delicate waist, blushing like a boy as he does so.
“You’ve had plenty to eat?” he asks.
“Oh, yes; pork dodgers, chicken fixin’s, dough do-
ings and sausages,” she replies. “Mr. Jones took very
good care of me.”
Then they ride away, for Harry Love has been equal-
ly expeditious, Estrella waving a hand ladened with
grateful thanks towards Him Jones, who, having no
hat upon his head, pulls his forelock, and says : “Bless
yer eyes. Miss. Tell yer dad Him Jones has not for-
gotten him,” and, getting into his house, mutters :
^“How could I forgit Jim Godfrey when he did me in
a boss trade ?”
Hampton and his party don’t take the main street of
the town, but ride around its outskirts, the Ranger
not wishing Greaser eyes to see he has the embar-
rassment of women in his convoy. Out of the town
they take the well-beaten trail that leads them along the
122
THE SPY COMPANY.
higher lands a little above the shores of the bay west-
ward towards the ferry on the Nueces River.
Reaching this in about three-quarters of an hour,
they find the ferry that has been used in bringing
droves of cattle to Taylor’s Army still in operation.
Here, under some oaks and cotton-woods that line the
river’s banks, they await the return of the boat, which
is a big scow now on the other side of the river.
Guided by means of a rope cable stretched across the
stream, it is coming back to their side ladened with
cattle. As they stand watching it, a Mexican lolls
on the bank smoking a cigarette and lazily gazes at
it also.
“You’re waiting to take the ferry, senor?” says
Hampton pleasantly to the man.
“No, senor; I am here to help drive that band of
steers, when it is landed, to the commissariat officer of
the Yankee Army.” The Mexican points to his horse,
that at some little distance is wandering about, hal-
tered by his lariat, cropping the grass of the prairie,
though the grazing is not over good, the ground hav-
ing been beaten and trampled by the hoofs of the many
cattle that have crossed in the last few months to feed
Uncle Sam’s soldiers.
As Hampton is about to saunter indifferently to-
wards this animal, the man, springing up, says eagerly
with the politeness of his nation : ''Quiere a fumar
Caballero/' proffering a handful of cigarettes.
''Con guest 0, senor,” replies the Texan, accepting the
offer with equal politeness. Lighting up, he takes a
few careless steps towards the horse, then turns away,
and, apparently no more interested in the Mexican,
goes to chatting with Miss Godfrey, asking her how
she has passed the night in the Goliad House.
“Rather peculiarly,” rejoins the young lady. “I had
a visit from the dancing girl, who came over and sang
THE SPY COMPANY. 1^3
to me and told me of her curious history and unhappy
life.’^
At this Hampton looks astonished, then slightly con-
cerned, and asks rather sharply: “What did you tell
her?’’
^^Oh, the details of our trip; how in the goodness
of your heart you had offered, notwithstanding the
urgency of your ride to San Antonio, to take me
through the dangers of the prairie to my father’s
ranch.” Then Estrella’s face grows radiant, she asks
eagerly : “Don’t you think my father may be
now at his hacienda, having come up from Matagorda
when he found I would not join him there?” Her
eyes have tender tears in them ; she murmurs : “Oh,
if I could see him at once upon arrival !”
To this the Texan answers nothing, but hurries their
embarkation on the ferryboat, which has by this time
reached their side of the river. Under his directions^
the crossing is rapidly achieved, Hampton urging the
ferrymen to their work by what would seem to Miss
Godfrey an almost too liberal reward, did it not speed
her towards her father’s arms.
During their water excursion, a shadow seems to
cross once or twice Hampton’s well controlled features.
He appears to be in deep thought. The moment they
have landed on the north bank of the Nueces, he takes
Love with him out of earshot of the young women and
says: “Did you see that Mexican on the other side
of the river?”
“Of course. Cap. Took a purty good look at him,
too.”
“Did you notice anything peculiar about him ?”
“Nothin’ particular; regulation greasy, regulation
dirty, regulation soft voice, regulation snake.”
“Yes, but his horse had a brand on it only used south
of the Rio Grande,” replies Hampton, “in fact, about
124
the: spy company.
the brand that would be on one of Canales’ or Carrabi-
jol’s horses. Carrabijol himself was in Corpus Christi
only a day or two ago. His band can’t be any farther
away than’ll keep ’em safe from Taylor’s outposts.
Probably about west of here.”
“Then we’d better travel quick,” mutters Harry,
“now we’ve got women with us.”
“Perfectly right !” Hampton steps to Miss Godfrey
and looking out over the prairie, which now towards
the west and north is only bounded by the horizon,
though dotted with its clumps of timber, he says :
“We’re about a hundred miles from your father’s
rancho, on a course a little west of north. Pve marked
it on this pocket compass. Keep that with you ! In
case by any accident you are separated from me or lost
on the prairie, follow the direction marked on this com-
pass, and don’t turn away from it. Remember that.
Your life may depend upon it.” Then he calls : “Har-
ry, have you given to Zelma the pocket compass marked
as I told you and the proper directions?”
“Yes, Cap, I told her that as we came along.”
“How does she ride ?”
“Quite well for a ” Love was going to say
“Yaller gal,” but the beauty of the octoroon makes him
say, “for a woman.”
“Well, her horse is all right. I had the negro boy
last night accustom it to skirts. Now follow along!”
and the Captain rides quickly by Miss Godfrey’s side
out upon the prairie, heading slightly to the west of
north. “I want to get inland,” he says, “so that when
we strike the next stream, we will be high enough up it,
to find a ford. I don’t want to make you swim it on
horseback.”
So the mustangs lope over the prairie, which begins
to seem boundless to Miss Godfrey, as the Bay of Cor-
pus Christi has entirely passed from her sight, and
THE SPY COMPANY.
125
now on all sides, lying before her is a sea of green,
dotted here and there with mottes or islands of trees
of various kinds, pecans, plums, live oaks and syca-
mores, just springing into their full foliage.
The morning mist spreading over it, makes the
scene weirdly fantastic as they pass great clumps of
live oak covered with the long bearded moss peculiar
to the Southern States. In the mist of the morning
these masses of timber assume fantastic shapes and
curious tints, sometimes looking like mediaeval castles,
at others gleaming palaces of silver, then glow-
ing red and gold beneath the Southern sun that is ris-
ing over them and dispelling the fog. Soon the whole
park-like landscape under its beams becomes warm and
bright and radiantly soft.
Suddenly Estrella utters an exclamation of delight.
The sea of green is changing into an endless sea of
flowers, yellow, violet, red and blue. Myriads of
lovely prairie roses, asters, dahlias and tuberoses give
out their perfumes to her open nostrils and their varie-
gated colors to her admiring eyes. Boundless the
flowery ocean spreads before her, broken here and
there by the green islands of trees, from which issue
the songs of myriads of birds — orioles and cardinals
and chaparral cocks giving out their morning welcome
to the sun. It is a bright March morning on the Texas
prairies.
The green tree mottes are made beautiful by clinging
grape vines everywhere, and some of them are thickets
of fruit trees, plums and wild peaches, covered with
colored blossoms that foretell a harvest of luscious fruit.
There is no sweeter morsel to the human tongue than
the wild southwestern plum.
Enchanted by the sight, the girl goes to prattling
merrily as she rides beside the rather stern-faced Texan
Ranger, whose eyes — the sharp eyes of the scout —
126
THE SPY COMPANY.
seem to be restlessly inspecting and investigating every
feature of the changing landscape.
“I had quite a curious episode in the Goliad House
last night, Captain Hampton/’ she says.
“What was that?” asks the Ranger eagerly.
“Oh, Him Jones’s cat!” she laughs. “The canvas
ceiling over my head had holes in it. It was wonder-
fully weird to see the pussy’s paws come through these
holes when she would lose her footing as she made an
all-night’s hunt for the rats and mice that scrambled
about over my head. I would have been frightened if
I hadn’t become a — frontier girl. Poor Zelma was ter-
rified at the creature.” Then Miss Godfrey whispers :
“From what Mr. Jones said to me, and from the direc-
tions you gave my maid yesterday, you must have
known of her foolish escapade with Mr. Yazoo Sam.
Please don’t mention it to my father if you meet him.”
Hampton glances back at the octoroon, whose hand-
some though delicately voluptuous figure is well dis-
played by the buckskin tunic, and some stories that he
has heard of Jim Godfrey coming into his mind, he
says pointedly: “Most certainly.”
“Thank you. Captain Hampton,” returns Estrella,
adding earnestly : “I don’t want you to have a
bad opinion of Zelma. She doesn’t deserve it.” And
as they ride along, she tells him of her maid’s devotion
in following her from New York.
As his companion talks, she gives many glimpses of
her lovely soul and the Texan Captain grows even
more tender to this beautiful creature who is so de-
pendent upon him for protection. Even as he listens
to her, his every sense is on the alert to keep her very
safe.
But the scene made pleasant by the low songs of
humming birds and the humming of innumerable bees,
elates the girl and makes her confident. She says:
THE SPY COMPANY.
127
“This is one of the flower prairies of which you told
me on the steamboat, isn’t it, Captain Hampton?” and
looking around, cries : “As if there could be danger
here!”
Just then there is a little sker-r-r a few paces to one
side of her. For answer, the Ranger silently points
towards a cactus bush. She gives a little scream of
horror and shudders : “Heavens and earth, isn’t that
a — a rattlesnake?”
“Yes. You see it isn’t all quite as secure as it looks.
There are other beasts that will do you to death in
those canebreaks.” He points to his right hand, where
a line of timber indicates a watercourse. “At night
you’ll hear the howling of the jaguars in that chapar-
ral, and even now, — listen! You notice that rooting
and grunting? That comes from the little wild hog,
the peccary, as plucky a brute as walks the earth. Kill
one, and you’ve got to slay the whole drove, or they’ll
tear you in pieces as sure as they’ve white tusks.”
Under the frontiersman’s instructions, the girl be-
comes impressed also with the animal life about her.
His quick hand indicating them, she notices the in-
numerable deer that they disturb, grazing, some of
their herds numbering hundreds.*
They have ridden not more than three hours when
Hampton says : “I reckon we’d better stop and give
you a rest.”
“Why, I’m not tired,” she answers, rather indig-
nantly. “I’m accustomed to horse-back exercise.”
“Yes, but your maid isn’t,” he replies. “Besides,
this is the proper time to rest and graze our horses.
We won’t go on until the extreme heat of the day is
*In passing through Southern Texas in 1846, the prairies
seeiued literally alive with deer, it was no uncommon spectacle
to see from one to two hundred in a single \\txA.—Captam
Randolph B. Marcy, in The Prairie Traveller,
128
THE SPY COMPANY.
past.” With this he calls to Love : “Harry, best get
something nice for the young lady to eat.”
“Sartin sure,” replies the Ranger, and turns his horse
off towards the line of timber that indicates a little
watercourse.
A few minutes after by a little rivulet that runs slow-
ly over the level prairie, Hampton stops his cavalcade,
and assisting Miss Godfrey and Zelma from their mus-
tangs, he places some blankets in a little secluded nook
under a cottonwood and says : “Take a siesta while I
fix things.” Gazing out from her leafy bower Estrella
can see the easy grace with which he hitches the ani-
mals by their riatas in such manner that they can get
plenty of good grazing, and taking their baggage off
the pack mule, makes preparations for a mid-day camp,
kindling in a hollow a fire of dry wood so as to give
out as little smoke as possible.
Zelma has proffered her assistance, but Hampton
says to her considerately: “No, you’re too tired, my
poor girl. Do what you can for your mistress, and then
lie down yourself. I can get a frontier meal a good
deal easier than you can.”
He is busied about these things, as Wild Harry
comes loping up on his mustang carrying in his hand
a fine young wild turkey; across his saddle hangs a
two-pronged buck.
“Reckon here are some nice things for yer white
teeth,” he chuckles to Miss Godfrey, “This gobbler is
as tender as chicken” ; then cries : “Let me do the
chores. Cap, while you rummage up some sweet doin’s
for the prai-ha-rie princess.” With this Mr. Love goes
to butchering and dressing the game.
Half an hour afterwards, Miss Godfrey is aroused
from her siesta to be astounded at a backwoods meal.
“Didn’t know ye could get such nice things on the
prairie, did yer? Try yer teeth on this ere ven’son
tHE SPY company.
1^9
steak. No, filled up on turkey?” remarks Wild Harry,
during the repast, “Keep a hole in ye for the strawber-
ries.”
“Strawberries?”
“Yes, and honey. Look here,” and the frontiers-
man laughs as Hampton produces from a lot of big
leaves into which he has gathered them, a pile of
freshly plucked, red, juicy prairie strawberries that
have ripened under the hot Southern sun.
“And — and honey ?” says the young lady, her pearly
teeth crunching some combs full of sweetness.
“Why, yes,” remarks Wild Harry. “Bless yer heart,
didn’t ye know every tenth tree about here is a bee tree ?
Didn’t ye hear hummin’ ’nough in the air? Waugh!
Ye’d go through the prairies and starve to death with
plenty around ye.”
During this Hampton has said little, some problem
• of travel apparently being in his mind, but Miss God-
frey has several times turned grateful eyes upon the
Texan Captain, not only for the consideration with
which he has anticipated her every want, but for the
generous courtesy that Zelma has received at his hands,
her maid’s comfort being looked after as carefully as
if the octoroon were a fine lady.
Consideration of Zelma puts an idea into her mis-
tress’s vivacious brain. She turns to Wild Harry and
asks, a slight hesitancy in her manner and almost a
pleading in her voice: “Mr. Love, you know my
father very well ; is he a very stern and severe man ?”
“Why, bless ye, he’s as kind a fellow as ever was
good to a frontier boy,” answers Harry so enthusi-
astically that Miss Godfrey’s face lights up with pleas-
ure. She nods smilingly at Zelma, whose eyes have
grown very anxious at her mistress’s question, and
cries reassuringly : “You see I”
As they finish the meal Hampton suggests : “We’d
150
THE SPY COMPANY.
better cook enough to last us for a day or two. By
to-night we’ll be getting in the range of the Comanches
coming up from foray across the Rio Grande, and it
may not be prudent to light a fire. I saw what were
smoke signals, I think, to the north of us.”
“So did I, Cap,” returns Wild Harry, “but didn’t
cackle about it, reckonin’ they were mirages.”
“Of course, they were very faint, and I may have
been mistaken. They must have been nearly thirty
miles away,” replies Hampton. “But it’s best to be
safe.” His glance has concern in it as he turns to Miss
Godfrey and says: “I don’t want to alarm you, but
you should know what may be before you.”
As he leads her horse up to her Estrella holds out
her little moccasin to place it in his hand for him to
put her in the saddle. But he astonishes her by say-
ing : “it would be more than pleasant to do you the
service. Miss Godfrey, but I want you to learn to take
care of yourself here.”
“So you won’t assist me into the saddle?” she asks,
a slight moue giving piquancy to her face.
“On the prairie a woman who can’t mount a horse
by herself is at times mighty helpless. Just try to get
on your mare man- fashion, so as to be independent of
me.” He holds Mulefoot very carefully and instructs
her how to put her foot in the stirrup and swing her-
self into the saddle.
After a little he suggests : “Do it without my hold-
ing your mare. Do it all by yourself, as if you were
out alone in the wilderness.”
In a few essays. Miss Godfrey succeeding in this, he
says with a slight sigh: “Now you’re more back-
woods.” For this lesson in equestrianism has been a
very pleasant one to the riding master; several times
his hand has touched that of his fair pupil.
“Yes, I feel as if civilization were a hundred thousand
THE SPY COMPANY.
I31
miles away from me!” cries the girl. “Wild turkeys
and deer I Some day you must teach me to shoot with
a rifle so I can do nly own hunting.”
The “some day” seems very pleasant to Hampton.
It suggests that the beautiful creature by his side
thinks he will not pass out of her life entirely with this
prairie ride. Then the words of Pelham, the dragoon,
come back to him and make the future look very blank.
He calls shortly : “Love, have you put Zelnia into the
saddle?” Next suddenly exclaims: “Where’s Wild
Harry?”
“Mr. Love rode back on the trail,” answers the octo-
roon.
“And I did not hear his horse’s hoofs,” mutters the
Texan Ranger in a dazed way. “What’s come into
my ears ?” Miss Godfrey, who is already mounted, is
blushing slightly.
The next moment Hampton is once more alert. “If
Love rode back on the trail, he’s seen something,” he
says as he hastily swings Zelma into her saddle and
goes to packing the mule with a cool but wonderful
dexterity.
This he has not finished before Love makes his ap-
pearance. Riding in from behind a timber motte, he
cries : “Cap, there’s somebody coming after us along
the trail !”
“Who?”
“Can’t tell.”
“How many?”
“Only one.”
“Are you sure there is only one?”
“Certain as I’m chawing terbaccy I It’s too far off
for me to make him out, but I can see him every time
he gets out into the air line as he passes the timber.”
“Very well. We’ll wait for him.” says Hampton,
laying his hand upon Miss bridle, for she
132
THE SPY COMPANY.
l:as rather timidly and excitedly started to ride off.
“Don’t you think Harry and I are good for one?’' he
laughs.
“Yes, for twenty of them,” she answers confidently.
“Just ride back, Harry, a little bit and see who it is,
and also that there is no one following him. Be
mighty careful of that !” directs Hampton, and fin-
ishes leisurely the packing of the mule.
Five minutes after Wild Harry rides in again. He
says: “Golly, here’s news for ye!”
“There are more following him?” asks Hampton
quickly, and springs into his saddle.
“No — but perhaps thar ought ter be,” chuckles Love.
“Sure as snakes ain’t ’gators, it’s a woman that’s trail-
ing us.”
“You’re crazy !”
“No, I ain’t; Fm only cute. I kin see the flopping
' of her skirts.”
A minute or two afterwards Hampton, returning
from personal observation, says :* “Blazes, you’re
right !” then mutters in perturbed tones : “It’s Car-
melita.” •
“The — the dancing girl!” ejaculates Miss Godfrey,
a curious look coming over her face.
“And jumping jerrico, how she is cornin’ ! Can’t
keep away from ye. Cap, can she?” cries Love, jovially.
“Didn’t I tell ye, Miss Godfrey, he war always ace high
with womankind?”
At this Estrella can see the Texan Captain bite his
lip beneath his mustache and give Mr. Love a decidedly
unpleasant glance for his panegyric, as he directs sharp-
ly: “Take post upon our backtrail and see no cursed
Greasers are sneaking after her. She’s hand-and-glove
v/ith half the bandits on the border.”
As Wild Harry turns his mustang away Carmelita
.THE SPY COMPANY.
133
dashes past him, bringing with her into this quiet, green
prairie glade passion undisciplined, unbridled.
Mounted upon a mustang whose sides are throbbing
and whose parched tongue is hanging out between his
lips, the perspiration and dust of rapid travel upon her
excited and piquant features, she sharply reins up her
steed upon his haunches before the Texan, and pants :
“Thank God, I Ve — Tve overtaken you !“
Here Miss Godfrey is almost shocked at the stern-
ness with which Hampton greets the dancing girl.
“Well, what are you following us for?” asks the Ran-
ger Captain, coldly and shortly.
“O Dios mio, you speak in that tone to me — when
I have ridden risking my life to save yours !” wails the
girl, still struggling for breath. ''Santos, you’re cruel.”
Her dark brown eyes blaze in a kind of agony.
“To save my life! What do >ou mean?”
“This,” answers Carmelita, a low, despairing misery
in her liquid voice, and her speech broken in its Eng-
lish accent by the terrible exertion of her ride and per-
chance the excitement that is in her. “This ! Last
night an espia of Carrabijol, he came to me; he say:
‘Catch her, the American heiress. Go over to the
Goliad House and see who rides with her on the prairie
to-morrow, and if she is easy prey.’ Then I go over.
I ask; I inquire.”
“And you have told? God forgive you!” screams
Estrella.
“No. I go back. I say : Tt is no good. The
Yankee donna has two companies of dragoons to ride
with her to San Antonio, Taylor’s boys that you fear.’
To myself I say : ‘Hampton goes with her. Now I
have saved him. There will be no pursuit.’ But this
morning I find the espia — he is so cunning — he has dis-
covered that only two men go with the Americana.
He doesn’t know what two men, or perhaps he be
134
THE SPY COMPANY. .
frightened. But the man from the ferry that he keep
there to find out, come riding back and tell him only
two Caballeros ride with the American girl.”
“The damned cigarette smoker!” mutters Love, who
is not out of earshot. “Whaugh, when I draw bead
on him he’ll watch the ferry over the Jordan, he will !”
“Then when the spy hear,” breaks out Carmelita,
“he ride to the west. You know what that means.
Carrabijol is there or Canales with their cruel ranchero
lancers.”
“How many?” asks Hampton.
“Oh, a hundred, perhaps. Perhaps more ; too many
for two men, no matter how brave. So as soon as
the spy is out of sight, I ride — ride to save you, to tell
you; that’s all. And you’ve treated me cruelly. Now
I go back.”
“No, you won’t go back !” commands Hampton, “not
over that prairie alone, unattended. Believe me, I
thank you.”
“Bah, thank herr cries Carmelita, waving her hand
savagely at Miss Godfrey, who is gazing with dis-
tressed eyes upon the scene. Then she continues des-
perately : “It is but a three hours’ ride. I must get
back and be dancing my bolero in the Bella Union.
Should the espia guess that I have warned you, it would
be my death ; not only his machete, but the knife of
every bandit in Northern Mexico would be sharpened
for my heart.”
“Yes, I think you’re about right,” remarks Hampton
After a moment’s consideration. “If you’re sure you
can return?”
“I must. I dare not stay. Even you, my brave
Texan Captain, couldn’t protect me from Canales and
Carrabijol, because you couldn’t be everywhere.' I
must go. Adios! Next time a woman risks her life
for you don’t look at her coldly and say: ‘Why do
THE STY COMPANY.
135
you follow me?’ even if my coming make the girl,
whom you cannot look in the face, jealous of me, this
Northern lily' I had meant to betray. But when it
gave my handsome Texan Ranger to death, then, ca-
ramba, I had a conscience !”
For one moment she makes a picture of passion tre-
mendous, despairing, helpless, but very lovely, in the
gaudy trappings of the Mexican horsewoman, as she
sits like a portion of her steed, her eyes glowing yet
sorrowful as they rest on Hampton, and sighs : ^'Dios
de mi alma, querido — querido mioT The next she
cries savagely: "‘VamosT claps her spurs into her
horse and dashes back along the trail towards the south.
CHAPTER X.
THE smugglers’ TRAIL.
Having placed a burning brand between these two,
Carmelita has flown away, leaving behind her the si-
lence of the wilderness. Her sad, despairing voice has
even awed Mr. Love. The only noise that strikes Miss
Godfrey’s ears is the cawing of a crow that seems en-
raged at human presence ; as for the young lady’s eyes,
they are turned towards the ground, confusion and
modesty almost make her sway in the saddle.
Fortunately now, hurried action compels Hampton
to ignore all else but his young charge’s safety. Life
and death have precedence of even passion.
For a moment the Texan gazes shamefacedly after
Carmelita and mutters to Harry: “Yes, it’s best.
The Greasers must not guess she has brought word
to us. No danger will come to her. Canales’s ranch-
eros riding up from the southwest cannot possibly in-
136
TKE SPY COMPANY.
tercept her. They’ll not reach our trail for twenty
miles ahead of where we are.” He thinks for a mo-
ment, then cries : “Love, shin up one of those oak trees
and see if you can still make out the Indian smoke sig-
nals to the north.”
Harry, throwing himself off his horse, goes up a
live oak as quickly as a squirrel, and a minute after
reports: “Yes, I kin see ’em, though, of course,
they’re awful faint,” and a moment after calls : “They
are smoke signals sure as bacon is fat !”
Coming down the tree, he holds a hurried consulta-
tion a little apart with the Captain. At Hampton’s
words Miss Godfrey can hear Love chuckle :
“Whaugh, won’t it be slick, sicking a panther on a
grizz’ly ?”
“Quick, Harry,” says the Captain, “ride over to the
west and see if you can find the trail of the Indians.
If they’re coming up from the Rio Grande you should
cross their track about six miles from here at the low-
est ford on the Nueces. Find out their numbers and
all about them. Meet me on the old Tobacco Smug-
glers’ trail.”
As the Ranger takes his pace rapidly towards the
west, Hampton, now leading the pack mule, rides along,
followed by Miss Godfrey and her maid.
The gait of their horses is sufficiently easy to permit
Estrella some conversation with him. Though she
cannot force her eyes to meet the Texan Captain’s, she
falters : “You’re — you’re riding towards the Indians.
You dread the Mexican lancers more than you do
them ?”
“Well, it’s about a toss-up,” remarks Shaipe,
“though the Conianches will trail us with more cer-
tainty than the Mexicans.”
“Then why go towards them ? Keep between them,
run away from both.”
THE SPY COMPANY.
137
“Oh, I want Canales’s band to follow us.”
“What?”
“Miss Godftey, I propose to make Indian neutralize
Greaser. In a few hours you’ll see Mr. Love and me
do it. Now, don’t let the matter worry you ; only be
sure that no harm will ever come to you until Sharpe
Hampton goes under.”
The Ranger’s face has a curious set expression on
it, but trying to turn her mind from the dangers of her
situation he gets to chatting to Estrella about the coun-
try through which they are passing, telling her of the
old Tobacco Smugglers’ trail he proposes to take ; how
it was made before the days of Texan independence
by wild contrabandists coming from Matagorda down
through Goliad of bloody memory to the Mexican
towns on the Rio Grande, tobacco bearing a very high
import duty from the Mexican Government. To her
he relates some curious anecdotes of how the smug-
glers used to hire the alcaldes of the pueblos to let
them sell their contraband cigars ; that sometimes after
the trade had been finished the alcalde, overcome by
fear or conscience, denounced them to officers in com-
mand of the Mexican troops, who took away all the
contrabandist’s gains. In that case the smugglers
generally knifed the alcalde,” he laughs. “Now the
trail is only used by cowboys.* In fact, Taylor’s army
has been supported for the most of the last five months
by Mexican beef, a thing that doesn’t make the
Greasers feel very pleasantly towards us.”
As they lope along he goes to pointing out honey
trees to his exquisite companion, telling her how the
* “Cowboy” was the term at that time applied to the wild
Texas man who rode down to the Rio Grande and looted
Mexican stock, quite often massacring the vacqueros who tried
to defend it. Their plunder was driven for sale to San Antonio
and even at times supplied the market of Galveston.—
^38
THE SPY COMPANY.
bee-hunters discover them by catching a few of the
insects and watching their flights, which are always
in straight lines, that where two lines oj^ flight inter-
sect there must be the bet tree. “That’s the way
Harry found that honey-comb, I reckon, that you en-
joyed at lunch,” he continues. “And look here! If
you’re lost, there’s no danger of your starving in this
part of the world. Two months from now there’ll be lots
of -the finest plums and peaches. At present, here are
all the strawberries you want; only look out for a
sunny mound and put aside the long grass, and you’ll
get enough to support you for a day or two.”
Then he gets to telling the young lady anecdotes of
frontier life, describing to her the celebrated “Old
Aunt Beck,” who used to keep a tavern on the Smug-
glers’ Trail, up towards Refugio, where the fight was
made in the mission church by the Texan boys, “the
little brothers” the men called them ; that some of these
lads hardly strong enough to carry a rifle held the
mission yard against the assaults of Mexican Reg-
ulars under Urea, until compelled to draw off by
Ward’s orders, they had to leave three of the children
who were wounded; and then the Greasers entered
the churchyard and cut the little fellows’ throats.
By this time the young lady has grown so interested
in and so impressed by his conversation that she has
forgotten Carmelita’s insinuation, and her eyes again
meet the Texan’s, though once or twice they droop
under his earnest gaze. In fact, the very incidents of
travel compel intimacy with her cavalier.
Twice he stops and gets water for his charge; like-
wise taking the same good care of Zelma. Once,
noting the china doll delicacy of the attendant, he asks,
very seriously, if she can support the ride. “Yes, any-
thing to save me from the Indians 1” shudders the octo-
THE SPY COMPANY.
139
roon. But, unaccustomed to the saddle, Zelma has
grown very weary.
As for Miss Godfrey, the horseback exercise she has
almost daily taken in New York now does her very
good service, and she rides on quite buoyantly and
easily, though there is an eager anxiety in her as she
notes the Texan’s eyes every moment searching the
horizon.
On one or two occasions he halts the young women
and walks slightly in advance to some ridge in the
prairie, where he can take observation, for he keeps
their horses in the low swales, protected from view as
much as possible by the mottes of timber, though the
mustangs’ hoofs in the soft soil make deep imprints.
“Can the lancers not follow our track very easily?”
whispers Estrella, nervously, to him as they ride.
“Yes, I want them to.”
“Oh, goodness !” She can’t repress a slight shud-
der of her graceful shoulders.
“Canales coming after us will strike our trail about
here, I think, two hours from now,” Hampton ob-
serves, but most of the time his gaze is directed ahead
of them. Once, assisting Miss Godfrey from the sad-
dle, he leads her on foot into a copse of plum trees
rather higher than the rest. Here, her mentor point-
ing cautiously to the north, she can just descry two
faint columns of vapor a few miles apart from each
other that are at times curiously intermittent. “The
signals of the Comanches,” he says. “Remember that
v/henever you see smoke coming up irregularly as if
at times it were restrained, it probably means Indian
signals. The accursed savages craftily hold their blan-
kets over the fire and let the smoke out in puffs of
varying sizes, telegraphing their movements to each
other.”
All the time their speed is kept at about a certain
40
THE SPY COMPANY.
rate, as if the Ranger meant to make a certain point
at an exact time. About half an hour after this he
turns his horse sharply to the north and says to Miss
Godfrey: ‘‘The Smugglers’ Trail.”
“The Smugglers’ Trail? I don’t see anything of it.”
“No, but it’s easy enough to a frontiersman’s eyes.
Look, the old hoof marks off there in the dry adobe.
Notice how the ground is worn down a little lower
than the rest of the prairie, though the grass is grow-
ing on it? But see, here comes Love!” Hampton
points two miles off towards the southwest.
“My, how he’s riding!” cries the neophyte in wood-
craft. “Carefully, too. He’s turned off out of his
course, because it would lead him into the open prairie
and is coming round that island of pecans. Still, how
did you first get your eye on him at so great a dis-
tance ?”
“Why, didn’t you see that herd of deer run out of
that copse ahead of Harry?” remarks the Texan.
“Wild animals by their movements often tell you what’s
going on. In this well-stocked country always dis-
trust a trail upon which you see no game. It’s almost
a sure sign Indians are near it.”
Ten minutes after Love overtakes them. “I found
the Comanche trail going to the north,” he says, terse-
ly. “They spread at the crossin’ of the Nueces into
two bands, one about forty, t’other nigh onto thirty
warriors. That’s thar smoke signals up north.”
“What time did they pass the river?”
“Just after sun up. The dew v^^as on the grass when
their ponies went over it, and no dew has fallen on it
since. They’ve been down on the Rio Grande; got
some captives with them, and plunder. Led horses
were plentiful.”
“Driving any cattle?” asks Hampton, sharply.
“Nary a hoof !”
THE SPY COMPANY.
Ur
■‘Thank God,” answers the Texan. “Then they
won’t hesitate to come on the back trail. Did you see
any Greaser sign?”
“Wall, I kinder think I did. Cap. Just after I left
the Nueces I got a good view of open prairie to the
south. On its horizon I caught the flicker of a lance-
head or some bright arms, but oh, an awful long way
ofif!”
“Then we’re about midway between the Greasers and
the Comanches,” replies Hampton. “We’ll travel on
kinder slow.” He looks up to the sun. “About three
hours more of it ! We’ll give the Greasers just twenty-
five miles to follow us. That’ll make it about a little
after dark when they overtake us, and then- ”
“Whaugh,” guflfaws Harry, “if we kin do it.”
“We’ve got to do it !” mutters Hampton, looking at
his delicate charge. “She could never stand a ride of
perhaps a hundred miles to distance the Comanches.
Those Greaser lancers are a God’s gift to us.”
Soon Miss Godfrey, watching their movements, sees
that time enters into all the calculations of these men.
Several times as they journey on Hampton glances at
the sun. About an hour before sunset he says :
“Harry, now’s our time. Miss Godfrey, you’ve got to
travel fast. Go loping through the soft places. Make
a good broad trail.” Urged by him, the party proceed
quite speedily for five miles.
All the time the Indian smokes are growing nearer.
Getting beside Hampton, Estrella whispers with pal-
lid lips: “We are riding right onto the Comanches.
Don’t yon see their smoke — only five miles away ?”
“Yes, they have been hunting or camped, taking a
rest from their long foray. Their ponies’ll be quite
fresh this evening. So much the worse for our
Greaser friends,” says Sharpe dryly.
“So much the worse for us! You’re — ^you’re not
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going nearer them ?” pleads the girl in frightened tone.,
“Well, just a little.’' But soon the Ranger doesn’t
seem to care to take any greater chances. “There may
be some outlying braves hunting deer,” he mutters.
“Best no farther, Harry. Now turn around and race
to that big live oak about three miles back. The one
I pointed out to you about thirty yards from that cane-
brake chaparral,” he whispers to Miss Godfrey.
“But the Indians — they will discover our trail, they
will follow us.”
“I want them to follow us.”
“What!”
“Don’t get excited. Watch!” For the first time
this grim day the Captain chuckles slightly.
They have raced back to the live oak tree. “Now,
Harry, hide our tracks!” he commands.
With this the Rangers spring off their horses and
throw all their blankets and horse clothes on the
ground, not even exempting Miss Godfrey’s. With
these they carpet the seventy-five feet of ground from
the trail to the canebrake. They have selected the
spot very carefully. It is one where there is but little
or no grass to be pressed down.
Over these blankets each horse is carefully led and
secreted in the rank canebrake of prickly pears, cacti
and mesquite bushes that borders a swamp through
which runs a little stream, probably a tributary to the
Aranzas.
“Now, Harry, the fire before it is too dark for both
Indians and Greasers to see the smoke. Put plenty
of wet wood on.”
Mr. Love, gliding out over the blankets carefully,
takes off his moccasins and travels quickly to a place
just off the Smugglers’ Trail that might be selected by
a careless camping party.
From here in a minute or two rises a high column of
THE SPY COMPANY.
43
dense smoke easily discernible in the red rays of the
setting sun.
“Mercy, it will bring both lancers and Indians upon
us!” whispers Miss Godfrey.
“Yes,” says Hampton, with a grim smile, “both’ll
come racing to it.”
“And then, whaugh 1” chuckles Wild Harry, who
has returned to them, obliterating with great circum-
spection every indication of their movements, even
blowing up with the breath of his lips the blades of
grass as each blanket is removed and concealed in the
canebrake.
“Now, quick, take me from here!” begs Estrella.
“And run into that party of Indians coming from
across the prairie,” Hampton points to the further
smoke signal. “No; we must stay here till Comanche
and Greaser get to work on each other ; then light out.”
“You think they will do it?”
“Just as sure as the Mexicans are lookin’ for your
purty face and the Comanches is huntin’ for scalps !”
grins Wild Harry.
So in the seclusion of the canebrake comes to Miss
Godfrey the agony of suspense. Shuddering at each
noise of the wild wood, this delicate girl, who but a
month before had been the belle of Washington Square
and University Place dances in far-away New York,
cowers in the tangled chaparral awaiting the coming
of barbarous enemies on one side and bloodthirsty sav-
ages on the other.
As she crouches there the shadows of the very last
sun ray falling through the matted leaves and briars of
the jungle, the thing would seem a horrible phantasy
to her did she not hear the sharp clicks of gun locks
as the men who guard her prepare their weapons for
immediate use.
144 THE SPY COMPANY.
Suddenly Hampton whispers : ‘‘Hoofs at a distance.
Muffle our horses. A single neigh will betray us.’'
So the two men blanket the heads of the animals,
who have grown strangely restive, holding the horses’
nostrils tightly while they do it.
She listens again, and Wild Harry mutters below
his breath: “Hoofs t’other way! Hear ’em corn-
in’ ? ”
“Yes, from the north, unshod,” whispers Hampton.
Then he half laughs : “Both gangs of devils racing
for a fire whose smoke shows it has been made by
people innocent of the backwoods and easy prey.”
By this time the gloom is such Estrella cannot dis-
tinguish details at a distance, but the frontier senses
of the men beside her do. “By Goliah, the Injuns’ll
be here fust!” mutters Wild Harry.
“Yes, but with Comanche caution they’ve halted,”
replies the Captain. “Ah, they’ve sent a scout ahead !”
And Estrella sees in the sunset glow the gleaming
figure of a naked savage in full war paint, with lance
at a carry and short bow ready for use, as he lopes
down the trail, looking cautiously to right and left of
him.
Even in the half light something just at the point
they have left the trail seems unnatural to the observ-
ing eye of the savage. He checks his horse suddenly,
and he and his steed become a statue in the red after-
glow of the prairie sunset.
“Shall I take him?” whispers Wild Harry, his long
Kentucky rifle sighted for the Indian’s heart.
For answer Hampton puts restraining hand upon
him; then mutters: “Thank God!” For the clank-
ing of metal horse trappings, the rattle of Mexican
cavalry accoutrements and the quick hoof sounds of
the ranchero squadron now catch the Indian’s atten-
tion. Not over a second he listens; then they can see
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145
him glide silently back, like a spectre horseman in the
gloaming.
“By gum, the Greasers come just in time to save our
bacon!” chuckles Love.
Straining her ears, Estrella catches Spanish voices
in excitable execration as the rancheros, arriving at
the camp-fire, discover that their prey has fled from
them. Though it is dark now, the trail is an easy one,
and they come dashing on, chattering recklessly in
their Latin way, yet some muttered carambas indicate
their cruel intent.
“By the Eternal,” says Hampton, “the Comanches
have ambushed them. They’ll get it good !”
Now the girl shudders and half screams as she sees
through the gloom of the evening the shining forms
of the savages on horseback closing in like spectres
round the rancheros* Then she claps her hands to her
ears, for greeting them is that horrid yell which has
proclaimed death, outrage and torture to many a Texas
maid in her log cabin home, the wild Comanche war
cry ! She sees the braves in their war paint driving
their bloody spears into the Mexicans, whom they de-
spise yet slaughter. Over this ring out the loud re-
ports of escopetas and pistols, the clash of steel on
lance, mingled with Spanish carajos, the twang of
Indian bows, the hissing of Indian arrows and the dull
thud of horses’ hoofs as they charge upon the prairie.
Then all dies away in a horrid jumble going rapidly
towards the south, leaving behind only the moans of
the dying and the shrieks of scalped and mangled
wretches.
“Blowed if the Yaller bellies ain’t flyin’ from the
Red bellies! Hope they’ve scalped Carrabijol!” guf-
faws Harry.
“Quick, let us go!” commands Hampton.
At his words Miss Godfrey finds herself lifted into
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THE SPY COMPANY.
her saddle and her horse rushed through the cane-
brake into the creek ; Harry, following after, doing the
same with Zelnia.
To her escort Estrella shudders: “You are going
south. You are following the Indians.'^
“Yes.’^
“The Comanches may come back.”
“The Comanches will come back. Trust the Indians
when they get through slaughtering Carrabijol’s men
to return to find out who lighted that prairie fire!
They’re sure to discover our trail, so I don’t want them
to know which way we have travelled. If they guess
we are going north, those crafty demons will intercept
us at the fords of Blanco Creek.”
So they dash into the brook, heading to the south,
and travel down it for some hundred yards ; then their
horses are turned in midstream and hurried back, keep-
ing well in the current. They have passed the place
they entered the stream, and now they dash through
the waters of the swampy creek for two miles. Miss
Godfrey shuddering as alligators flop off their logs
and moccasin snakes hiss from the cypress trees, until
Hampton, finding a proper place, takes them carefully
out through the canebrake into the open prairie.
“Now ride fast!” commands the Ranger Captain.
“Those red devils are sure to find our trail before morn-
ing. Ride! We must reach the crossing of Blanco
Creek before those painted centaurs get there !”
And they do ride! Miss Godfrey, almost reeling in
her saddle from fatigue, finds that the horseback exer-
cise she had taken each day in New York helps her,
but soon a faint cry from behind indicates her maid
can ride no more.
“Reckon we’ve got to tie the wench on her mus-
tang!” remarks Love, looking at the almost fainting
octoroon.
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147
'‘She’s too far gone for that ; it would kill her,” dis-
sents Sharpe.
Then he springs into his saddle with Zelma in his
clutch, who is so worn out she cannot speak; and so,
carrying one of the despised race right tenderly in his
strong arms, he rides into her mistress’s heart.
Though Estrella is nigh fainting herself, she gives her
cavalier a look that, could he see it in the gloom, would
make him think that midnight trail through swamps,
over prairies, amid thorny chaparral, was one of the
aisles of Paradise.
But not guessing this and anxious for her safety, he
whispers to his charge : “You can keep up ! You
must keep up ! We have got to ford the Blanco be-
fore I give you rest, brave girl !”
“Don’t fear. I’ll keep up. Who could flinch with
you to aid her?” she half moans under the unceasing
travail of her galloping steed.
But, despite her words, this beautiful and delicate
neophyte of the border is so exhausted she scarce has
her senses as the hoofs of their horses splash through
a running stream, and Mr. Love says : “Whaugh,
beat the Injuns this time — the crossing of the Blanco 1”
What precautions her escorts take at the ford to
hide their trail Miss Godfrey is too exhausted to dis-
cover. She only knows that some half hour after-
wards she sees, as in a dream, their mustangs drawn
up in some leafy covert, and Hampton passing Zelma
from his saddle to Mr. Love, who carries the fainting
girl away.
Then the frontiersman springs off his horse and
takes her in his arms as tenderly as he would a wood
nymph, and bears her as if she were a precious
thing, to a couch of boughs and leaves, upon which he
has thrown her blankets. Here, sinking down, she
gives a sigh of exhaustion, yet content, as she watches
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THE SPY COMPANY.
this man of iron, with pistols prepared and eyes alert,
guarding her slumbers, to make them safe from man
and beast, amid the dangers of the prairies.
As she goes to sleep she whispers to herself that
sweet Spanish word she heard Carmelita use : ‘‘Queri-
dor
CHAPTER XL
THE GLORY OF HIS FIGHTING.
The midday hush of the prairie is around her, its hot
sun is blazing down upon her when Estrella reopens
her eyes to a day of strange passion with its astounding-
joys and curious fears. For a moment she looks
about her astonished, then physical anguish makes her
remember. Every joint in her delicate body seems to
have been racked and made stiff. She who had been
considered a dashing equestrienne on Harlem Lane,
New York, discovers that the wild, long night ride of
the prairies has been altogether too cruel a travail for
her fair limbs.
But bodily suffering is effaced by the mental ecstasy :
“How near I am to my dear father.” Then through
her mind runs a stronger emotion, a stranger joy:
“He is by me! He is watching over me!” She does
not dare to ask herself “Who?” but glances out timidly
from her leafy bower upon a little prairie surrounded
by thickets of plum, Osage-orange, oak and pecan,
where their caballada is grazing contentedly on the
rich buffalo grass, and over which Mr. Love, rifle in
hand, is keeping an alert eye.
All through this day it is apparent that very great
precautions are used for her safety. Her food is given
to her cold by Hampton, who apologizes : “I dare not
THE SPY COMPANY.
149
have a fire lighted. These redskins are about us.
Their accursed eyes see everything on the prairie. We
must lie close, for if you could travel, your maid could
not. She has not been inured to horseback exercise.”
This is too true ; poor Zelma can hardly move at all.
. Every moment the careful, tireless watch of the
frontier is being kept about her. Miss Godfrey has
heard Hampton whisper to Love : ‘Tf we are sur-
prised these girls are incapable of taking the saddle.
Therefore, keep the lookout of your life, old man !”
“Bet yer gizzard!” has answered Wild Harry
promptly.
Once she has been cautioned by the Captain of
Rangers : “Remember, the Comanches are about I”
for Estrella has wandered timidly away into some cot-
tonwoods and willows which mask a little stream that
trickles through the prairie to join the waters of the
Blanco.
“I — I just wanted to wash my face,” she mutters.
“Shucks, ye’d look purty enough if ye didn’t wash
at all 1” Mr. Love has remarked authoritatively.
And, fortunately. Miss Godfrey’s beauty is that of
Nature, or it would all have been torn from her by the
wild ride of the night before ; even now her fair cheeks
are covered with dust, and her lovely hair, having es-
caped from its confinement, is hanging in tangled curls
about her, well below her waist.
“It’s — it’s hardly fair. Captain Hampton,” she says,
bashfully but archly, “to look at me before I’ve made
a frontier toilet.”
For he is gazing with tender commiseration at his
exhausted charge. He brings her some wild flowers
he has plucked in the glade and places carefully a sad-
dle for her to sit upon. She is pleased to see, he can’t
keep his eyes ofif her. This is not to be wondered at,
as passion has made her bright face exquisitely ten-
THE SPY COMPANY.
150
der, and the masses of brown hair unconventionally but
effectively secured about the graceful head permit the
sun to shine through their loose bands and tint them
golden.
But all the time the girh notices that, though Sharpe
Hampton apparently wishes to linger in her presence,
there is a nervous restlessness in this man of energetic
temperament. It is not fear of Indian pursuit, she is
sure, for in making arrangements with Love about
this matter the Ranger’s tone is cool and incisive.
Perceiving that his eyes at times rest wistfully on
their horses, she munnurs, a slight reproach in her
voice: “Ah, you’re anxious to get on your journey.”
“I am, for military reasons,” he answers. “But I’m
more anxious to put you safe at your father’s hacienda.”
“Then I wonT detain you. I can ride; I know I
can ride. Just let me run about a little and I’ll be as
active as a fawn !” asserts Miss Godfrey.
But Hampton, looking at the reclining Zelma, whose
well-moulded yet languid Creole limbs have not been
inured to horseback exercise, answers : “I believe you
could, but your girl can’t.”
“Zelma shall !” cries Estrella. Striding to the re-
cumbent octoroon, she speaks in mistress tones : “You
must travel !” but finds that Nature is stronger than
her commands, and her slave cannot.
Then come the long hours of waiting, Hampton and
Love from points of vantage carefully watching the
prairie.
Gazing at them Estrella smuggles Sharpe’s flowers
into the bosom of her tunic and grows petulant, as she
gets comparatively little of her cavalier’s attentions, for
which now she is beginning to long — yet dread ; dread
— because she fears herself. She is alarmed at
the strange misery in her heart as she thinks of Car-
melita’s passion for the frontier Captain, and shudders :
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I51
‘‘That dancing girl saved his life, while I only put
danger on it !”
Wild Harry happening to be near her, she diffidently
whispers to him : “Did Carnielita’s warning out on the
prairie, the one she risked her life to bring, save him
from the Mexican lancers yesterday?”
“Save who?”
“Why — why. Captain Hampton, of course!”
“Shucks, no,” answers the frontiersman. “We’d
expected that danger all along and allowed fur it be-
fore we started out from Corpus Christi. We talked
of it agin when we see’d the Greaser at the ferry with
his horse marked with a South Rio Grande brand. Of
course, we didn’t guess that a war band of Comanches
was upon the trail ahead of us, but the minute we saw
their smoke signals we’d fixed our plans just exactly
how to make the Greasers and redskins wipe each other
out.”
“Ah, then Carmelita didn’t save the Captain’s life?”
she asks, quivering with jealous eagerness.
“Nary a leetle bit,” answers Wild Harry, confident-
ly. “Whaugh, Sharpe Hampton ain’t the kind of crit-
ter as needs any one to save his scalp in an Injun scrim-
mage. He kin take care of himself. Didn’t he once
all alone upon the San Saba save two little children
from a whole tribe of Kiowas? Why, darn it, what’s
the matter with ye?” For Miss Godfrey has turned
away, her eyes full of tears, but lighted up with a
strange, wistful delight.
Shortly after blushes burn up the tears. The octo-
roon has looked at Sharpe with grateful eyes ever since
he carried her through the ride of the previous night.
Chancing to be in attendance upon Miss Godfrey, and
noting the Texan’s gentleness in handling the horses
as he makes some change in their pasturage, Zelma
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THE SPY COMPANY.
suddenly exclaims : ‘'Oh, if a man like Captain Hamp-
■ton could be my master !”
“Captain Hampton! How could he be your mas-
ter?” asks Estrella, astonished.
“Why — why, by marrying you, of course. Miss
’Strella. Sometimes I’ve thought as he looked at you
his eyes meant ”
But her mistress stays her with a half scream of
bashful rage: “Not another word! My Heaven, if
he hears you !” She almost staggers from Zelma, the
red blood pouring up through her face till her very
skin seems to bum. For an hour the words of her
maid make Miss Godfrey strangely cold to the Cap-
tain of Rangers whenever he approaches her, lured
even from his duty of guarding her by the desire to
look upon her bright face.
But soon coldness is effaced by a new wild joy. Be-
fore she had seen her Texan cavalier use the strategy
of the backwoods and the arts of the frontier to save
her from savage enemies. Now she has the glory of
beholding him fight for her !
Hampton is seated by Miss Godfrey, telling her how
he hopes on the morrow to put her in her father’s arms.
“His hacienda is but forty miles away,” he says.
As the words leave his lips, Estrella sees his whole
appearance change. His eyes, that had been soft and
tender, suddenly light up with the cold gleam with
which he had cowed the Mississippi gambler, only more
deadly, more awful.
To her he says, as he forces her down behind the
bundles of the pack mule : “Use your pistols !’^
Turning, she utters an affrighted cry. In the mid-
dle of the glade, in full war paint, mounted on his war
pony like a statue of bronze, the sun lighting up his
gleaming skin and glittering arms, is a young Co-
manche brave.
THE SPY COMPANY.
153
He is setting an arrow in his bow. But as he draws
the feathered shaft to its head a rifle cracks sharp as
a whip from the outlying thicket, and, with a stream
of blood spouting from his breast, the warrior, utter-
ing one wild yell that echoes through the timber, falls
from his horse and dies.
“Had to shoot this time ! The skunk see’d us. I’ll
take his pelt cries Love, and springs out into the
open. But a band of eight braves comes dashing round
the mesquite bushes and in a second Harry is on the
ground pinned by a Comanche lance through his arm.
To run to his aid would be too late for Harry’s life.
So now the Ranger Captain, standing like a statue,
gives out death. To the report of his revolving pistol
the savage raising scalping knife over Love falls dead.
Then three times in quick succession his deadly marks-
manship shows itself in three falling warriors who sink
from their horses.
Another dies to the crack of Love’s pistol, who, lying
upon the ground, has fired again. “Whaugh, that
sickened ’em !” screams Harry, as the other three turn
and dash madly off, though one leaves an arrow driven
through Love’s wounded arm.
“Not one must get back to their band !” cries Hamp-
ton as he seizes the riata of his steed. Springing upon
the bare back of the horse, armed only with the pistols
and bowie-knife in his belt, he dashes off, calling to
Harry : “See to the Indian mustangs !”
“Follow him! Follow! He is going after three T
cries the girl frantically to Love, who with the arrow
still skewering his arm, is hastily shooting the riderless
Avar ponies. One of these has run out upon the main
prairie. Pointing to it. Wild Harry says : “If it gets
back to the Comanches, it’s track will guide ’em to tis.
Follow it and kill it, for yer life.”
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THE SPY COMPANY.
“First let me bind up your wounds. You’ll bleed
to death,” falters Estrella.
“No, I’ll tend to myself. Git out on that prairie.
Kill that horse. Ye’ve pistols in your belt- Kill the
Injun’s horse. That’s our li\es.”
Wildly excited, she runs out upon the prairie, and
cieeping within range of the Comanche war pony that
has stopped to crop some pleasant grasses, for a mo-
ment cannot kill the beautiful creature. Then murmur-
ing: “It is his life as well as mine!” and remember-
ing the markslnanship he had taught her, she raises
her revolver and slaughters the beast with three nerv-
ous, trembling shots.
But her pursuit has taken her well out on the prairie.
From here, she can see Hampton gaining stride by
stride on the three Indians, for his horse is fresh, and
theirs are tired by the war trail. For just a moment
she gives a shudder of apprehension. Comanches are
no cowards. Noting but one man following them,
the three warriors turn. Even at the distance, she can
hear the twanging of their bows and see the war ar-
rows flashing through the sunlight.
She runs frantically towards them, her pistol may aid
Sharpe I Probably the embarrassment of her presence
would give him death, but fortunately the distance is
too great for her to reach them. Even now she sees
Hampton spring off his horse, standing behind it and
making a pivot of it as the Indians circle round him.
Resting his long dragoon pistol over the animal’s shoul-
der, he takes three long shots.
The heavy revolver does its work. One Indian falls
dead ; another desperately wounded is half-dragged by
his pony into a mesquite thicket ; then the other flies.
She sees him speed off over the prairie followed by
Sharpe, till pursued and pursuer pass out of sight
around one of the timber mottes of the prairie.
THE SPY COMPANY.
155
And she stands gazing — gazing so eagerly, she
never notices the slight waving ripple that gradually
draws nearer through the long prairie grass which
rises almost to her waist.
After a few minutes that seem an age, one man
comes riding back. Recognizing him, Estrella gives a
sigh of joy, the tears coursing down her cheeks as she
is thanking God.
But not approaching her he gallops hurriedly into the
chaparral, where the wounded Indian’s mustang had
dragged the warrior. A moment later lie dashes out
of the thicket, and urging his horse to its full speed,
flies straight towards her across the prairie, calling:
“Use your pistol ! Quick, your pistol !”
“On what ?”
Suddenly the girl sees on what. Rising before her,
wounded but deadly, is a Comanche brave. Blood is
dripping from his naked, painted body. All he wants
is her young life before he dies. Half crawling, half
staggering, he drags himself towards her, his eyes
malevolent, his knife upraised.
With trembling fingers the girl shoots, and misses;
then shoots again, but doesn’t stay him. What is an-
other flesh wound to a Comanche with a scalp in his
very hand ?
She is fumbling in her belt for her other pistol, and
trying to pray. The brute’s hot, foetid breath is on her
face, his knife uplifted, when to the hoarse bark of the
Ranger’s big revolver, the savage falls groveling at her
feet, the blood spouting from his head.
Hampton has shot from the back of his mustang at
full speed, the impetus of his horse takes him past her.
As he passes, Estrella finds herself plucked from the
prairie and gathered in his arms in front of him. Then
they go dashing on.
“To save you, I had to let the war pony of that dead
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THE SPY COMPANY.
Indian get away. A riderless horse will tell the Co-
manches that their party has been slaughtered. Venge-
ance will give them speed. We’ve got to light out.
Hang on to me while I take you into camp.” These are
quick words as they fly across the prairie.
So nestling to him, she rides in his arms, blushes
on her cheeks and whispered thanks on her lips for
the life he has given her. Through her light fawn-
skin tunic he can feel the quick throbbing of her round-
ed bosom. It sets his heart to beating also.
Her face confronts his. Her eyes gleam into his,
then droop bashfully, and her head with all its wealth
of soft brown hair that blows out in the light prairie
wind, falls on his shoulder. The Ranger’s hand, which
had been very steady as he pulled trigger on Indian
braves, quivers as he holds to him the dainty body of
this graceful creature, who enchants him and makes
him tremble with a tender passion.
A short, blissful ride. Neither speaks, but the girl’s
head hangs lower and lower on his shoulder, and his
clasp is more possessive about the slight waist and ex-
quisite limbs that nestle closer and closer to him. Still
their lips are silent, for between their beating hearts
are the words of the young dragoon : “Keep my loved
one safe, Hampton, for it is my life.”
So he gallops into camp, but doesn’t pass Estrella to
Harry as he had done the octoroon girl the night be-
fore; for he slides off his horse’s back, still bearing
a loved burden in his arms as if he could not give it up.
Though even as he dismounts, he is speaking rapidly :
“Quick, Harry, how is your wounded arm ?”
“All right. Zelma did a good job binding it up.
Only a flesh wound.”
“Then get up the horses! One of the Comanche
ponies escaped me. We must light out.” And the
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157
Captain goes to packing the mule, for Love says : “I
kin bridle the plugs, anyway.”
“Now, Miss Godfrey !” whispers Hampton. This
time he doesn’t refuse the little foot that is extended
to him, but swings her into her saddle.
“Quick, Zelma !”
But the octoroon, with the languor of her race, half
sobs : “I cannot go. I’m too tired. My limbs ache
SO.
Then Miss Godfrey discovers a new feature in the
Texas Captain. He says : “Girl, you have got to ride.
Now Love’s wounded, my arms must be free. Up at
once! Your legs will get easier with exercise.”
But Zelma hesitating, with a single gesture he swings
her into the saddle, commanding: “Ride! Ride, or,
by Heaven, I’ll leave you to be scalped. Ride! You’ve
got to ride !”
Then the cavalcade dash off.
Turning in his saddle, he says to Love : “Harry, if
Zelma falls off her horse, we must tie her on, that’s
all.”
Then he gallops by Miss Godfrey’s side, asking her
anxiously: “You feel strong enough?”
“Strong enough ? Oh,” she whispers buoyantly, “I
could ride in your” — her face grows red as the prairie
roses — “by your side all night.” Yet every stride of
her mustang bringing her nearer her father, makes her
heart grow heavier ; she is approaching the place where
they must part for the present, for now she has linked
this man, who has saved her from savage enemies, with
her future.
Perchance as they ride along, Hampton talks himself
further into her good will. He seems to have lost all
of that quaint Southern dignity that had made him
formal during their first intercourse. Anxious to make
her forget the dangers of pursuit and the fatigues of
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THE SPY COMPANY.
enforced horsemanship, he tells her stories of the bor-
der, of Davy Crockett, Bowie and Milam of the War
of Independence, of Gillespie, Sam Walker, and Jack
Hays of Indian fame, of the great fight on the head
waters of the Guadaloupe, sometimes called that of the
Pinto Trace, wherein fourteen Texan Rangers under
the command of Hays, had driven eighty Indians for
six miles, slaying nearly half of them, with a loss of
three men killed and four wounded.
Likewise he describes the ill-fated Mier Expedi-
tion, where he in company with two hundred and
seventy Texans, after killing seven hundred Mex-
icans, surrendered from lack of ammunition; how re-
captured after their attempt to escape, they had been
decimated by order of Santa Anna; a gourd having
been placed before them filled with beans, each one
representing a man’s life, nine white to one black,
which meant death; how he had drawn, by the mercy
of God, a white bean; how old Blackburn, to whom
fate had given one of the black beans, had jeeringly
called out : “Boys, I always draw a prize in every lot-
tery,” and had gone laughingly to stand up against the
adobe wall and die.
To this last the girl listens, her eyes lighted up wild
and horrified, as she thinks, trembling at her own emo-
tion : “If he had drawn a black bean.”
Noting her nervousness, Sharpe whispers reassuring-
ly : “But a few miles more to your father’s hacienda.”
“And you?”
“Then — then I go on to San Antonio. No — no, I
cannot stay.” For she has said some pressing words
of hospitality. “Duty calls me. I must ride through
the night,” he answers. “But should you want me at
any time in stress like the present, if I am not dead or
across the border fighting for my country, send for me,
A KNIGHT OF THE PRAIRIE
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THE SPY COMPANY.
159
and if horseflesh will get me there ” His face tells
her the rest.
Yet during this ride, at times a weird and uncanny
horror seems to smite Hampton’s very soul. Estrella
has noticed this ever since he encountered the Coman-
ches. “You — you’re not sad about the Indians you
killed. It was to save my life,” she whispers ; then is
horrified at the jeering yet awful laugh which is his
answer.
“Sorry at killing those red devils?” he breaks out.
“Sorry?” He bows his head upon the saddle, and
tears run down between his brown hands. “Oh, you
don’t know my life, or you’d not ask me that,” he mut-
ters. “You have perhaps wondered why I haven’t all
the rough diction of the prairie, that I sometimes speak
as people living in the cities. I was educated at college
for two years, and then went back from my sophomore
year to our plantation in Shelby County, Texas,
where I had a loving father, a dear mother and a sweet
sister. When I arrived there a bleakened prairie
greeted me where there had been gardens and a cot-
tage with woodbines and Virginia creepers climbing
over it, a desert where there had been a happy home,
and that was all — all ! No living thing, but the hoof
tracks of the war ponies told the massacre of my fam-
ily. Since then I have been alone. That’s the reason.
Miss Godfrey, why my name has been connected with
so many bloody deeds done on this frontier. To pro-
tect other men’s homes from these red devils, I entered
the Texan Rangers. I never have taken life but to save
life. I am not a duellist like a good many of our boys
are — if I can help it. Though no man, I think, can
say Sharpe Hampton ever turned his back on him.
Anyway, that’s my history. You don’t think my hand
has wanton blood upon it ?”
“What ! When it has protected me this day ?” And
i6o
THE SPY COMPANY.
tlie girl, leaning over her saddle, extends her own hand
to the Texan Ranger. It is gripped so that she screams
from very agony.
“Oh, forgive me !“ he pleads.
“Why, you can grip it again,” says Estrella, bravely,
and extends her delicate fingers once more ; then gives
a little, agitated cry as the tenderest kiss is placed upon
it. Fortunately the night is dark.
They are riding through the prairies that are open-
ing. The waters of the Atascosa Creek, heavily tim-
bered, are on their left. A light gleams on the prairie.
“It is one of the outlying cabins of your father’s set-
tlements,” he says, almost sadly.
“Have we ridden thirty-five miles?” she asks, aston-
ished.
“Not yet. Your father’s acres are pretty numerous.
But we’ve come very quickly — yet not too fast.” His
face is serious ; he cries suddenly : “Quicken your
pace. Urge your horse.”
“Why, we’re nearly there.”
“Listen to the Comanche hoof-beats behind us !
Quick, Harry, whip up Zelma’s mustang!” As her
steed springs under her, Estrella can hear the sharp
sounds of the quirta as it is plied behind her on the
tired horse.
But now more lights open before them. They have
dashed past several log cabins, and Love, spurring up
from the rear, cries : “Those skunks have quit at the
lights of the settlement.”
“Yes, but drive on 1” cries Hampton. “You never
know when a Comanche’s beaten.”
So they rush on again, and are just in time. To
the right are pattering hoofs trying to head them off.
But now, riding past Virginia rail fences, there is a
block-house, at which they are challenged, and the
Ranger cries : “Comanches behind us, boys !’*
THE SPY COMPANY.
l6l
A scattering volley, and the ponies’ hoof-sounds pass
away into the darkness of the prairie from which they
came. Indians do not often face palisades with rifle-
fire behind them.
A moment later there is quite a crowd about Estrella
and her party, rough men, some with German accent,
and two or three negroes. But on hearing who it is,
the garrison of the block-house set up a yell and drive
Miss Godfrey nearly frantic with joy, for they tell her
her father is at the hacienda, having arrived there the
day before.
“You must stay and let him thank you,” Estrella
whispers. “Only to-night ; to-morrow you can go on.”
“No, Love goes on now. Though tough as whip-
cord, you’ve seen his pluck, he is a wounded man and
I must follow him and see he gets in to San Antonio
de Bexar safe. When the regiment rides down — they’ll
be coming soon, en route for the Rio Grande, I’ll try
to run over and — and see you.”
They still are at the block-house, arranging that
Zelma be sent on by wagon. Miss Godfrey’s maid being
utterly exhausted.
Love, who has been looking on uneasily, now says
in wild, nervous tone : “No further. Cap. You know
I can’t stand the looks of this ’ere place. Over thar,
beyond that cross timber, my poor old Mammy lived.
Let me get on to San Antonio, as we agreed, and —
good luck to ye. Miss Godfrey, and — ”
“And,” says the girl, “whenever you need a friend
or want a resting-place, remember Estrella Godfrey.
Come back. This place was the home of your boyhood.
It will be your home as long as I have any influence
with my father, and I think I’ll have a good deal,” she
adds in radiant confidence; then breaks out, her soul
in her eyes : “My father ! Hampton, think, my father !
Let us get along; my father’s waiting for me. My
i62
THE SPY COMPANY.
father, whose face I will not know, whose kisses I never
remember.’^
Then the two ride on together, alone. ‘Think —
think,” says the girl, in excited gratitude, as their horses
pace side by side, “if I had not met you.”
“It would have been to me as if the sun had never
risen,” mutters Hampton, half to himself.
“You said if I wanted you, to send for you,” remarks
Estrella, pensively; then suddenly asks, half archly,
half indignantly : “You wouldn’t come unless I sent
for you?”
The Texan Captain half turns to her in his saddle;
but answers resolutely : “No, never until I’m wanted !”
for the words of young Pelham, the dragoon, are yet in
Hampton’s mind and 'still his tongue.
Then wounded pride keeps the young lady silent as,
coming through fruit lands and passing big cotton fields
and huge cattle corrals, and being challenged by two or
three sentinels, who are all alert, for the place has al-
most the appearance of a frontier fortification, they
ride up to the strong adobe walls* and heavy timber
doors of the hacienda of Live Oaks, and after some
parley are admitted.
In the big courtyard, half patio, half garden, a man
dressed partly in the costume of the prairies, partly in
that of the city, comes hurriedly to meet them. To
him, Hampton cries : “Jim Godfrey, I’ve brought your
daughter !”
And Estrella screams : “Father !”
At this the man, muttering : “Daughter !” and hold-
ing out his arms, the girl falls into them, and greets
him with tender kisses, sobbing : “Thank God, at last
my dear father!” Then, for he has only saluted her
forehead, she says archly yet lovingly : “My lips, pa-
pa, my lips I” and holds up for his caress two rosebuds
made sweet by a daughter’s happy affection.
THE SPY COMPANY. 1 63
From this sacred meeting, the Ranger steps a few
paces away. Some minutes afterwards, despite the
hospitable protests of the head of this great estate and
his thanks for bearing his child to him, he says, short-
ly : “Military duty won’t let me stay. Taylor has
marched for the Rio Grande, and Hays’s Regiment
must go after him !”
To this Godfrey cries: “Hurrah, there’ll be big
Government contracts and lots of profit !”
Wondering how the father can think of pelf with
his exquisite daughter just given to his arms and her
first kisses warm upon his lips, Sharpe turns away.
Undeterred by even the young lady’s detaining grasp
and faltered thanks and entreating eyes, he wrings her
hand and mutters : “Farewell !” But in the very arch-
way of the hacienda he looks back. The lights from
the adobe building illumine the woman of his love, nes-
tling in her father’s arms and prattling how she has
come from the world to make his frontier fireside less
lonely.
It is the vision of a home he will ne\^er have. With
a sigh the Ranger Captain turns his horse through the
heavy gates and spurs away into the darkening night on
the lone trail over the prairie to San Antonio de Bexar.
BOOK IV.
Miss Godfrey’s Father.
CHAPTER XII.
“my dear daddy !”
That evening Miss Godfrey goes in very happily on
her father’s arm to supper. This has been hastily
spread late at night. To him she says, her eyes light-
ing up as they sit down : “For the first time at the
head of your table ; my dear daddy.'’
It is a profuse meal, though served in homely fron-
tier style by a bright-faced mulatto girl called Milly.
Over it she tells her father of her journey from New
York and her adventures after leaving Copus Christi.
Perhaps her account of the Ranger Captain’s care
and guardianship of her is slightly too fervid. During
this her father looks at her once or twice with so per-
turbed a countenance that she says hastily : “You don’t
think I did wrong in coming across the prairies alone
with a frontiersman. You know it was to see you. I
had got so far, I felt that I couldn’t wait any longer
for your kisses.” Then she questions, a diffident con-
fusion on her features : “You don’t think I’m too
grateful to Captain Hampton ?”
. “Oh, that’s all right. Your journey’s over; that’s
the end of it,” remarks Godfrey. “You’re — you’re too
tired, my — ^my child.” There is a slight hesitancy in
his expression. “Best go up-stairs. Zelma, your girl,
(164)
THE SPY COMPANY. 1 65
has arrived by wagon. What you want is to sleep
for a day or two,” he suggests.
“Oh, I’ll wake up to-morrow, for my first day with
my father !” Putting her arms about him, the girl
kisses him tenderly, and runs up-stairs, where she finds
that a plain chamber in this backwoods house has
been made as pretty as possible for her use. It is
handsomely furnished for the frontier, has flowers in
jugs upon its tables. She has also noticed in the sitting-
room a piano, that has been purchased for her in New
Orleans and sent up by wagon from Matagorda.
From her window she looks out upon the prairie to
the west and sighs to the night wind : “Hampton !”
Then goes to bed, and, though worn out, sleeps a sleep
that is not always dreamless, for in it are Indians and
war whoops and rifle-shots, and she rides again in the
Ranger’s arms on his bareback steed ; that blissful ride
when he had plucked her from th^ death that seemed to
claim her.
The next morning Estrella awakens to find the
bright sun lighting up her pretty chamber, and to sniff
the perfume of flowers that Milly is placing about it.
The wench, with a little salute, says : “Missie, Massa
said as how he wouldn’t expect yo’ to breakast dis
mornin’ ; he ’lowed yo’ might be too used up.”
“Not too tired to meet my father !” cries Estrella, and
springs out of bed. Smelling the beautiful flowers with
which her room is decorated, she murmurs to herself:
“Daddy! He thought of me this morning. He has
plucked these himself.”
In the adjoining room her maid is working un the
little wardrobe brought across the prairie. “Zelma,
is my muslin frock ironed?” she asks. “It must have
been mussed fearfully on the mule.” Miss Godfrey,
always feminine, though she has brought with her only
i66
THE SPY COMPANY.
one gown, has selected one that she feels sure will make
her look well in her father’s eyes.
She glances at her watch and cries : “Mercy, nearly
twelve o’clock. Papa will be waiting for me !” To her
maid she says : “You seem tired, Zelma. Just make
me pretty for my father ; then take a rest,” and laughs :
“No more an Indian maiden! Dad shall see how his
daughter looked civilized.”
Miss Godfrey, her eyes full of love, trips down-stairs
and pouts to find that her father has ridden out five
hours before to look at his cotton fields.
A bright idea flits through her mind, and calling
Milly, she goes to work at domestic matters. From
these she springs, her face radiant, as, about an hour
after, Godfrey comes riding up to the house and throws
his reins to a negro boy. Running out to him, she
cries: “Come in to lunch, papa dear, and see what a
housekeeper your daughter is.’"
Putting a kiss on his lips, she leads him into the din-
ing-room, which had been quite homely in style and
furnishing, but has now been made under her hands
bright with flowers, and its table adorned with snowy
linen. “What do you think of a civilized meal?” she
says, proudly.
“Ah, you expect company?” asks Godfrey, a curious
nervousness in his tone, his eyes opening at unwonted
luxury, for till this time he had lived in almost backs-
woods manner, his bearing being that of a man un-
accustomed to the world, his face one that has borne
the brunt of outdoor life. His clothes and manner also
indicate he is a plain frontier planter.
This only makes his daughter more tender to him.
She cries: “No, only you! Nothing is too good for
you. Look. Prairie roses on the table, and I’ve had
everything cooked that Milly said you liked.”
THE SPY COMPANY. 167
So they sit down, she radiant and he quite well con-
tent.
But the meal being over, and Milly having gone
away, she says, archly standing before him : “Take a
good look at me, dad. What do you think of me
civilized, papa ? See ; silk stockings and slippers She
displays, in daughter’s freedom, dazzling ankles ex-
quisite in their moulding and dainty feet decked in
Parisian style; then suddenly gasps: “You — you’re
not ashamed of me?” For a red flush has flown over
her father’s face and there is a somewhat abashed look
in his deep eyes as he gazes on his daughter’s loveli-
ness.
“No,” he stammers, “but I — I was afraid, with your
fine dresses and high-falutin’ things, you might be
ashamed of your frontier daddy.” Apparently almost
forcing himself, he glances at the beautiful figure the
girl makes before him, favoring with a little paternal
pat her superb shoulders, that gleam white as marble
under the sheer muslin of her corsage, as he continues :
“I was afraid you might put on shines with me and be
hard to control, and ”
“Oh, no, father,” she says simply, her eyes lighting
up with devoted love. “Understand me, I intend to
give a daughter’s full and entire duty to you.”
At this declaration Godfrey’s face becomes easier;
he takes Estrella’s little, shell-like ear between his big
thumb and strong forefinger, gives it a slight pinch and
laughs : “Then be very careful, miss.”
Flushing, yet pleased at the familiarity, for until this
time her father had been somewhat more formal with
her, she whispers : “That’s the way I want you to
treat me; just as if I had been brought up here on the
plantation and had always been under your charge
and accustomed to obey you. That’s it, dad, acais-
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THE SPY COMPANY.
tomed to obey you — accustomed ahvays to obey you.
For you will give me your guidance and direction.”
“And correction, eh, my little girl?” he observes, his
tone having grown quite confident and dominating.
Gazing into his eyes, she sees that her father will
exercise the authority she has so freely yet gracefully
conceded, and in the exuberant love that she has kept
waiting for him all these years, she is happy in the
familiarity of his control and dominion.
“Yes, when I need it, I suppose,” she murmurs, and
hangs her head bashfully and nestles to him a little.
“But I am going to be a very good girl,” she cries in
sweet enthusiasm. “Indeed, I am, papa dear,” and
seals her promise with a whole-souled daughter’s kiss.
“Well, since my little girl’s going to obey dad in all
things,” remarks Godfrey, his voice quite confident,
“I’ve got to go and look at some mules I’m shipping to
Matagorda for Uncle Sammy.”
“Oh, can’t I go with you?”
“Why, certainly. I had feared that you were too
tired.”
“Not too tired to ride with you,” she cries, eagerly ;
but a moment after pouts : “I have no horse.”
“Why, there’s that mare you rode across the prai-
ries.”
“What, Mulefoot?”
“Yes, Captain Hampton left her as a present for
you,” says her father.
“Oh, he always thinks of me !” Miss Godfrey flushes
with pleasure. There is a tender look in her eyes that
causes a cloud to cover her father’s face. But this she
doesn’t notice, having already run from him to get
ready for the excursion.
The moment their horses are at the door, she comes
down looking like an Indian princess, her face flushed
at Hampton’s gift, and pats the glossy neck of the
THE SPY COMPANY.
169
mare. Turning to her father, she laughs : 'T’m bar-
barous again. No riding habit, so Tm an Indian maid-
en.”
“Oh, my superintendent’ll have your clothes and fix-
in’s up from Matagorda very soon,” remarks Godfrey
heartily, and puts his beautiful daughter in the saddle.
Then the two ride off together through Osage-
orange hedges and paths bordered with wild flowers,
for a look at the great plantation. As they lope over
the cotton fields, her father explains to her the great
extent and possibilities of the estate. They go into the
cattle corrals to inspect the mules ready to be sent down
to Matagorda for Uncle Sam.
“You see, there’s going to be a big war, Strella,” he
says cheerfully. “And this is my first chance to make
big money.”
“Oh, then you’ll have to leave me here and go on
to Matagorda soon?” Her eyes grow misty at the
thought of his parting from her.
“Not a bit. My superintendent, who is down there,
is a man of the finest business ability, a great friend of
mine, also” remarks Godfrey, adding, rather earnestly :
“When he comes up here, I want you to like him,
Strella.”
“Oh, of course I will ; any friend of my father’s !”
cries the girl enthusiastically, and they enjoy a very
pleasant afternoon, though once a shock comes to Miss
Godfrey.
Standing in one of the cotton fields, waiting for her
father, who is giving some directions to an under over-,
seer, the conversation of a near-by negro gang that
gaze with darkey curiosity on their young mistress,
who has given the toiling creatures some kindly words,
comes to her ears.
“ ’Pears like de hand of Gaud ha’ bin put upon us
170
THE SPY COMPANY.
and an angel had come down on dis 'ere plantation,"
orates a big Congo man.
“Can’t be no angel in hell, honey," answers a woman
sadly. Then the driver cracks his whip and she places
her picaninny under a bush and goes with the rest of
the gang to wielding a hoe through the long rows of
the unending cotton fields.
Knowing the exaggerated expressions of the negro
race. Miss Godfrey doesn’t give any great heed to this,
regarding it simply as “nigger talk." But still the
whole plantation has an animalism in its great gangs
of slaves working in the cotton fields under their driv-
ers that isn’t entirely obliterated by its somewhat ro-
mantic surroundings, the outlying log cabins of Ger-
man settlers, who cultivate their own little farms among
its islands of sycamores and oaks, being diversified by
several blockhouses, each garrisoned by a few fron-
tiersmen and hunters.
As they ride back, her father says: “Were it not
that this place is a big one and able to protect itself, we
would have been wiped oi¥ the face of the earth in these
last few years by the raids of Mexican Rancheros or
forays of the Comanche. As it is, we have to keep a
pretty sharp eye for our scalps. But this war will
finish up the Ranchero raiders and then this country
will settle up and be frontier no more."
“It shall be frontier no more to you, dear papa, from
now on,’’ remarks Estrella gaily, as she springs off her
horse, full of the idea of introducing some of the ele-
gancies of the world into her father’s big adobe, back-
woods household.
Consequently, Godfrey who has departed on some
plantation business, chancing to return a little later and
step into his bedroom, starts astounded and questions
nervously : “What are you doing here, daughter?"
“Mending dad’s trousers,’’ replies Estrella. This is
THE SPY COMPANY.
I7I
quite evident; the fair priestess of domesticity, with
the sleeves of her dress rolled up to her dimpled el-
bows, is seated, in daughter’s familiarity, at work with
needle and thread on his frontier wardrobe, which in
truth has much need of attention.
'‘By gum,” he mutters, “that’s real kind. Even
fear of a hiding won’t make Milly keep the buttons
on !” and he looks grateful but shame-faced as Estrella
cries : “Papa dear, you are to buy a new suit of clothes
the next time you go to Matagorda. Your daughter
wants you to look scrumptious!”
At his supper also, he finds some confections the
young lady had learned to manufacture from Mr.
Martin’s chef in New York. These appeal to her
father’s palate so greatly that he says : “Daughter,
them kick-a-shaws are better than any I have ever
eaten in the Tremont House, Galveston.” For this is
the nearest to the great world Estrella discovers God-
frey has been in the last twenty years.
Reflecting that during all this time, he had been ac-
customed to nothing but this rough and tumble frontier
plantation, devoid of all elegancies of life, until she
entered his doorway, the girl sighs to herself : “And
dad endured all this to give me a fortune !”
Whereupon she introduces a little more civilization
into papa’s life by sitting down at her piano and sing-
ing, as he smokes his cigar, some of the tunes that have
lately pleased New York.
As she finishes Godfrey says : “You’ve made a new
world for me, my daughter. God bless you, I don’t
v/ant you to ever go away from here again.”
“No, father, I won’t.”
“That’s right. You marry some Texas fellow who
won’t take you from me, and we’ll settle down here.”
“Yes, father.” Her cheeks are blushing. “Some
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THE SPY COMPANY.
I'exas fellow who won't take her away from here!”
She knows one I
“Ah, I'm glad you see the thing in my light,” ob-
serves her father, pleasantly, as she seats herself by his
side and takes his big hand in her little one.
“Papa,” says the girl suddenly, “Captain Hampton
must have spent a good deal of money for me. There
is that horse that Zelma rode, and other expenses.”
“Oh, as to the money. I’ll take care of that,” replies
Godfrey rather testily. His voice has a slight command
in it as he continues : “Don’t you trouble Hampton.
As to the mustang your gal rode, it has already been
sent on to San Antonio. By the bye,” he adds, “I’ve
had your wench down at my office and registered her in
our live stock. Crackey, I never guessed you had such
a valuable piece of property in New York. That girl,
with her white skin and fine lady airs, ’ll bring twenty-
five hundred dollars in the New Orleans market if she’ll
bring a cent.”
“Oh, you’d never think of selling her !’’ cries Estrella.
“Mother had Zelma since she was almost a child. Don’t
you remember, you wrote once that if she was faithful
to me, Zelma should have her freedom ?”
“What ! Manumit that likely piece of goods ? That
ain’t Jim Godfrey’s way,” cries her father, angrily.
Then he stammers : “I — I wrote about her ?” and looks
astounded.
“Yes! But that was before you were wounded at
Rock Springs,” replies the girl ; “wounded so you
couldn’t write to us for nearly a year.” Though noting
the hand she holds in hers bears the signs of injury, she
is somewhat astonished to see that it is his left one, not
his right.
“Oh — ah, yes,” answers Godfrey, hastily; “but at
that time I had so much upon my mind, the wench
probably went out of it. I had to build up this planta-
THE SPY COMPANY.
173
tion and resettle it. When I came back here, there
wasn’t a living thing on all this place but a dog ; every
nigger run off, every white slaughtered.”
“Except Harry Love,” cries Estrella.
“What? Who’s he?” These are two hasty and
anxious questions.
“Why, the Ranger I told you of, who, with Captain
Hampton, escorted me across the prairie ; Harry Love,
who was a boy here, before the massacre !”
‘'Before the massacre!” shudders Godfrey, the hor-
ror of that awful time seeming to come into his face.
“Yes. His father and mother lived over there in the
* cross timbers and were killed with the rest, but he
escaped.”
Here Estrella is startled. As she has spoken, her
father’s features have grown almost ashen. He has
staggered to the sideboard and taken a long pull of
whiskey, muttering: “Harry Love, the boy; Wild
Harry escaped ! Yes — I — I remember him.”
“And he remembers you, too. He said you were
the kindest-hearted man in all of Texas; he but I
couldn’t get him to stop here last night. His father
and mother had been killed just out there, and he
couldn’t bear to look upon the place. That’s the rea-
son he has never come near Live Oaks in these ten
years.” Then she half screams : “Father, the recol-
lections are too horrible for you !”
For he is looking at her wild-eyed, and is shudder-
ing : “Don’t bring these recollections up to me, child.
Pity your poor old father, and don’t let this Harry
Love come here; the meeting would be as cruel for
him as for me. Every old face brings up your mother
and your stolen sister,” and, sinking into a chair, he
puts his head in his hands.
Stepping to him, Estrella tries to pull his hands away
to kiss his face, but cannot. Apparently he doesn't wish
174
THE SPY COMPANY.
her to see how the memories of the harrowing past have
unnerved him ; so she presses her lips to his forehead
reverently murmuring : ‘‘Poor papa/’ and goes silent-
ly away.
CHAPTER XIIL
THE COMING OF THE SUPERINTENDENT.
The next morning all is bright again, and that
afternoon, coming in from his office, which is down
on the road a couple of hundred yards away, Godfrey
finds Estrella in daughter’s freedom in his chamber,
making his room more homelike. Gazing at his bed,
he gasps : “Sheets !”
“Certainly, sheets !” laughs the young lady. “There
was plenty of cotton cloth in the house, and Zelma and
I can sew. Besides, I wanted sheets for myself,” she
adds, archly.
“Wall, I ain’t seen sheets since I was at the Tremont
House, Galveston,” says her father. “You make me
luxurious as a king, daughter,” and he pats her on the
head and makes her happy by calling her his good little
girl.
So now come to her days happy in her father’s com-
panionship, when as princess of the plantation she rides
by Jim Godfrey’s side over the great estate and strives
to make his homely life less crude by a daughter’s love
and devotion.
In addition, finding her father speaks Spanish, she
takes to learning that tongue, and, as quite a number
of the people about the plantation jabber that language,
Estrella soon becomes fluent in it after the Mexican
way, which is rather different to the true Castilian.
During this time the excitement of first meeting hav-
THE SPY COMPANY.
75
iiig passed, the daughter begins to contemplate the
father, and finds him a man of strange weakness, yet
strange strength. In appearance he is somewhat
)'Ounger than she had expected, very active and strong
in person, and very hard in his dealings with others —
though not to her. To every one else on the planta-
tion he is autocratic, but to her he is always kindly in
word and bearing, though sometimes strangely diffi-
dent and bashful for a father. In fact, his weakness
seems only to be for her and his absent superintendent.
Upon this man, from his remarks, Godfrey appears to
lean, especially in a business way. When displeased
by the backwardness of work on the plantation he so
often says : ‘Tf Jasper was here things would be dif-
ferent;” that the daughter grows rather jealous of the
absent Mr. Jasper.
As the days run on everything and everybody seems
to be turned to account. Milly, the dining-room girl,
is put to “chopping through cotton” in the field, and
Zelma, who has but little to do as her mistress’s ward-
robe has not yet arrived from Matagorda, is placed in
the dining-room.
Pondering on this, as Estrella does at times when
she is not by her father’s side or riding with him on
the plantation, which is her great pleasure. Miss God-
frey cannot understand how a man who has been so lib-
eral to her in far-away New York, grinds every ounce
of muscle in the slave gangs of the cotton fields into
money.
“Anyway,” she thinks, “this is not altogether dad’s
doings. It is the arrangement of his superintendent,
who is down at Matagorda, the man upon whom he
seems to be so dependent and to lean so much,” for she
has heard : “Da young boss — and de^* hard drivin’ Mas-
sa Jasper!” in the negro quarters. These she visits
often, trying to make the existence of tlie toiling slaves
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THE SPY COMPANY.
more bearable by kindly sympathy, at times demanding
and getting from her father better food-rations for
them, and once begging for them a half holiday, as it is
her birthday.
This, strangely enough, her father seems to have for-
gotten, though when she mentions it to Godfrey, he
cries effusively : “Oh, yes, by Jingo ; the fifteenth of
April ! How could that have slipped my mind !” and
gives the recreation to everyone on the plantation, and
quite humbly brings her this day a handsome jewelled
locket of Mexican workmanship, saying : “It was your
mother's, and was concealed in the strong box with my
money, which fortunately escaped the fiends when the
plantation was destroyed.”
“Ah, thank you, dear dad !” cries the girl, and kisses
it.
Then as Godfrey notices that her fingers, urged by
woman’s curiosity move over its golden surface trying
to open it, he laughs : “There ain’t any inside to the
thing. I’ve tried it a hundred times myself. The bau-
ble’s as solid as a nugget.”
“Ah, but there is a spring in its handle,” exclaims
the young lady, who is more used to jewelry than her
parent. “See ! The mechanism is very stiff from dis-
use, but ” she gives a little excited cry and her agile
fingers force it open. Then she eagerly asks : “Whose
miniature is this ?” She is looking at the face of some
one painted on ivory, who seems a very dim memory
to her.
Her father, who has sprung to her apparently to aid
her, gives a start, gazes at the locket, then chokes a
little and mutters : “Your — your mother’s brother, I
reckon. Didn’t she ever speak of him?” A moment
after he suggests : “Best take it out and some day I’ll
have a picture made for you of your daddy,” and goes
away to superintend a festival for her natal day, having
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177
flowers and fruit brought in and sending out hunters to
shoot wild turkeys and other game.
Yet two or three times during the festivities, as her
father glances at the locket she has hung about her
white neck, Estrella imagines he half regrets the gift,
though he is more loving to her than ever and kisses her
forehead, which he has crowned with wild flowers, and
calls her his beautiful daughter.
In the next few days she inspects the picture in the
locket during idle moments in her chamber, yet the por-
trait continues only a dim memory to her. She dis
covers in almost microscopic characters at its foot, the
name of ‘'Amalfi,” presumably the artist who painted
it, but this brings no suggestion with it, and finally the
locket almost passes from her mind, the girl having
other and more important matters on her brain, the
chief of which is her father and Captain Hampton.
As to the first, a great joy wells up in her heart
hungry for his affection, as at times she ponders of her
father’s hardness to others and his liberality to her, for
she concludes his open handedness to her in New York
must have been on account of his great devotion to her.
This is fortunate, as soon after an incident arises that
tests her love and makes the strain upon her obedience
very heavy. As the days have run on. Miss Godfrey
has several times spoken to her father with regard to
the Texan Captain who had escorted her across the
prairies, once or twice suggesting that as San Antonio
is only forty miles away, a note be sent to Hampton
asking him to visit their hacienda, if he can find time
from military preparation, that she may thank him
again.
These suggestions Godfrey has generally put away
with the remark that he is too busy for company and
hasn’t the time to entertain a military lounger.
At her repeated mention of Hampton’s name, her
178
THE SPY COMPANY.
father has looked at her sharply and seemed not
over pleased at her enthusiastic gratitude to her pro-
tector of the prairies; and once he has brought con-
sternation on her by chuckling : “J^st hold your horses
a little, daughter. Soon there’ll be a fine young fellow
to ride around the plantation with you and do the po-
lite.’’
She is so abashed at this, she doesn’t ask her father
to whom he refers ; though she guesses.
Finally one day a wagon arrives from Matagorda
bearing Estrella’s trunks.
“You can thank Jasper for your baggage,” laughs
Godfrey. “Lord, how he must have shoved things to
get your belongings up over these muddy roads in this
time. Besides, at my suggestion, he had a feminine
side-saddle sent from New Orleans. It’s here also.
Now you can ride woman fashion again. I reckon that
will please you.”
“It does !” cries the girl, who has already taken from
one of her trunks her New York riding-habit, her In-
dian prairie costume having grown rather worn by her
plantation excursions. The arrival of her baggage has
made Miss Godfrey vivaciously happy, she so longs to
look well in her father’s eyes. She goes babbling on :
“Dad, what will you think of me in this ?” and crying :
“Tulle over white satin, that will make you open
your backwood’s eyes. You never saw your daughter
in decollete Parisian ballgown in your life, did you,
papa ?”
Yet in the very midst of her delight, Estrella’s face
grows agitated and miserable. The driver of the wa-
gon chancing to state that the news is that Sam Walk-
er’s and Sharpe Hampton’s companies of Hays’s Regi-
ment of Rangers are already mustered in and are to
start at once for the Rio Grande, where things look like
blood betwixt Taylor and the Greasers, she leads God-
THE SPY COMPANY.
179
frey to one side and breaks forth suddenly and nervous-
ly, yet quite bashfully : ‘‘Dad, I must write to Captain
Hampton before he goes to battle to tell him that Tve
not forgotten him then pauses astounded at her
father’s manner, for he says to her quite sharply : “I
don’t wish you to write to Captain Hampton. Your
very enthusiasm may put some foolish ideas into his
head now that he wears real regular Government shoul-
der-straps.”
“Foolish ideas ? What do you mean, papa ?”
“Well, ideas that you may have more than gratitude
for him.”
At this, Estrella’s face gets as red as some poppies
standing on the table; she says indignantly: “Surely,
my father doesn’t think I have been unduly forward
with any gentleman.”
“Certainly not,” answers Godfrey heartily.
“Then let me tell you Captain Hampton’s bearing to
me when I was alone in his hand on the prairie was the
impersonation of respect,” she draws herself up very
haughtily.
“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” answers her father.
The trouble is, this rough-riding ranger is too chivalric
and too brave. It’s these very qualities that make him
dangerous to romantic girls. Therefore, I judge it best
that you do not write to him.”
“But, father, he will think me ungrateful. I cannot
permit that. Fie is going to — to danger. I must
write.”
“Understand me, Strella,” replies Godfrey, his tone
more severe than it has ever been to her. “You have
offered me a daughter’s full duty and obedience. That
I exact from you. I don’t wish you to write to Captain
Hampton.”
So her father goes away, leaving the young lady with
tears in her eyes and rebellion in her heart. In the
i8o
THE SPY COMPANY.
enthusiasm of first meeting it had been easy to oflfer
obedience. Tis difficult now to fulfil her promise. For
Estrella Godfrey had been accustomed to do pretty
much her own will with Mr. Martin of New York, and
had been but slightly chided at school, and now it seems
hard to her in her young womanhood, when her soul is
yearning to do a thing, to be told : “Thou shalt not.”
She thinks deeply, then sighs to herself : “I — I can-
not let him go perhaps to death and think me an in-
grate.”
The evening of the third day thereafter, she astounds
her father. Immediately after supper, she says : “Papa,
I ” and hesitates and trembles, something she had
never done before any man. “I — do not wish to have
any secrets from you ; I think it right to tell you that
I wrote to Captain Hampton three days ago.”
“What ! You mean to tell me after your voluntary
promises of a daughter’s duty, that you have deliberate-
ly disobeyed me?” Godfrey says slowly as if he can’t
believe.
“Yes, if that’s the way you put it, I — I did disobey
you.”
“How did you send the letter?” His face is flushed
by a terrible anger.,
“That I don’t wish to tell you. It might get some
of your servants into trouble.”
“It will get some of my servants into trouble.” And
Zelma, chancing to have come into the dining-room on
some of her duties, Godfrey says sharply to her:
“Here, wench, your mistress wrote a letter. Tell me
what she did with it.”
“Master, I — I don’t know,” stammers the octoroon.
“Yer face says that ye’re lying to me,” cries her mas-
ter, savagely, for Zelma’s pretty knees are shaking un-
der her. “Now if you want to save your white skin,
THE SPY COMPANY. l8l
lady, tell me, or Fll take you down to my
office and give you the rawhide till you do.”
Here Miss Godfrey, stepping between them, says in-
dignantly : ‘‘You shall not punish Zelma for my fault.
I took the letter out myself and gave it to Pablo.”
“What, that nigger-Greaser, who drives one of my
ox-teams to San Antonio?” asks her father, his face
growing more tranquil.
“Yes, sir.”
“Humph, gave it to Pablo. Very well, I suppose it
cannot be helped now,” he says, as if the affair was be-
yond his grasp. Then he commands: “Go to your
room, ’Strella. Your disobedience has wounded me —
No, I shall not permit you to kiss me,” for she is plead-
ing even as she goes away: “Forgive me, father. I
felt I must write — forgive me !”
Perhaps Miss Godfrey would not be so contrite did
she know that ox-teams travel exceedingly slowly,
therefore Pablo won’t arrive at San Antonio until the
morrow, and that a few minutes after she has told her
father, one of his under superintendents on horseback is
speeding along the San Antonio road, charged not to
spare his horse.
Late the next morning, Estrella, waking up, gasps
suddenly: “What load is this upon my heart?” then
remembering, sighs : “For the first time I have dis-
pleased my dear father.” Rising rather languidly from
the bed, after a time, she thinks a ride will give her
better spirits, and gives her orders to this effect.
Some few minutes after, as she comes down in her
riding habit, Zelma says timidly to her : “The master.
Miss Strella, wants you in the dining-room.”
“Certainly,” and she goes in bravely yet almost peni-
tently to endure her father’s correction, little guessing
that he has now in his pocket her letter to Hampton,
which he has just opened and read.
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THE SPY COMPANY.
An innocent little note, it reads simply :
“Dear Captain Hampton:
Hearing that you leave for the front, I would like to say
good-bye to you, and thank you once more for your care
and kindness to me in the long ride over the prairies.
As your regiment or company must pass not very far
from us on its way to the South, if it is possible, ride over,
if only for a few minutes, and let me say adieu to one for
whose safety in battle I shall ever pray.
Yours most gratefully,
ESTRELLA GODFREY.
P.S. — Do you recognize the little wild flower, one of
those you gathered for me on the prairie? The rest I shall
keep.”
This 'postscript and this wild flower make Godfrey
very stern Avith his daughter as she comes in, and
looking lovingly yet anxiously into his face pleads :
“Father, am I forgiven?”
“Not until I have made you know you must never
disobey me.”
“Oh, papa!” Her face flushes as she stands before
him, her graceful pose in her riding-habit as drooping
as poor Psyche’s when that unfortunate nymph awaited
Venus’s chastisement, for Miss Godfrey has not been
accustomed to childish correction.
Perchance it is the riding-habit that puts the idea in
her father’s head. He says sternly : “For your of-
fence, I am going to take away from you the use of
Mulefoot.”
“What, his gift?”
‘'His gift” makes her father very angry. He says
determinedly : “Yes, you ride no more for the present.
Put your foot over that mare’s back, and Pll have her
shot.”
“0-o-oh 1” gasps the lovely culprit, and she runs out
onto to the porch, and fondling the graceful neck of the
black mare, cries to the negro boy : “Take her away,
THE SPY COMPANY.
quick!” as if she feared her father even now might
destroy the Ranger’s present.
Coming in from this, she half sobs: “That was a
cruel threat, father; that was a cruel threat!”
Debarred of horseback exercise. Miss Godfrey dur-
ing the next few days turns to Hampton’s other pres-
ent. She takes to practising at a mark with the two re-
volvers the Ranger had given to her, and in the course
of time, remembering his directions, becomes quite
deadly with these weapons, and jeers herself as she
makes bull’s-eyes. “It wouldn’t take three shots now
to kill a poor mustang,” or, “I don’t think I’d miss that
Comanche the first time I’d pulled trigger at him.”
Then imitating Wild Harry, she cries : “Waugh, I am
becoming a frontier girl, I am !”
During these days, Pablo, returning from his trip to
San Antonio, is eagerly questioned by his young mis-
tress : To her the mestizo says : “Yas, I gabe de
lettah to dat Ranger Capt’in.”
“And then?” Miss Godfrey’s tone is very eager.
“Den he took a glass of noyau and says : 'Dat’s all
right,’ and stuck it in him pocket. He was drinkin’ wid
some udder of dose Ranger fellahs. Santos, all dat dey
is talkin’ now is ’bout butcherin’ der Greasers down on
de Rio Grande.”
“He said nothing — ^nothing else ?”
“Not a word of mouth !”
“You’re sure it was Captain Hampton ?”
“Sartin ! Caspita, ev’rybody know dat diahlo Sharpe
Hampton !”
Then Miss Godfrey goes silently away. Pablo, half
Mexican, half negro, but whole slave of her father, has
done his work very well, as the poor wretch had good
reason for doing, having promise of a silver dollar if
he lies straight, and fifty lashes at the whipping-post if
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THE SPY COMPANY.
he blabs about the letter having been taken from him
by Godfrey’s orders.
But a month passing and no acknowledgement nor
visit coming from Hampton, and the news being
brought by teamsters that Sam Walker’s and Sharpe
Hampton’s companies have left Sa 1 i\ntonio and gone
down in advance of Hays’s Regiment to join Taylor’s
army, the girl’s face grows prouder, yet paler.
The Ranger’s seeming neglect brings her nearer to
her father once more ; she sighs to herself : ‘T disobeyed
and wounded my dear old dad by perhaps being unduly
forward with this man who thinks more of killing
Greasers than of being polite to me,” and forgives her
“dear dad” for his severity about Mulefoot, and goes
to making his house very pleasant for him, embellishing
it with many of the little feminine nick-nacks which
have arrived with her trunks, and decking herself each
evening in pretty gowns to make her father proud of
her.
So time runs along until one morning towards the
end of May, Estrella hears a commotion and cheering
outside the gates of the big patio. Coming out she
finds quite a little concourse of the hunters and trappers
and German immigrants of the estate, who are standing
about some wagons which have arrived from Mata-
gorda. Their cry is that the war has begun, and that
Taylor has defeated the Mexicans in two pitched bat-
tles. Chancing to hear the name of Sharpe Hampton
mentioned, Miss Godfrey gets hold of a newspaper that
has been brought up by one of the teamsters, and tak-
ing it to her room, sits down and reads in the Galveston
Herald an account of that glorioiis deed of arms which
probably prevented the discomfiture of Taylor’s Army.
It states that the Texan Rangers under Sam Walker
and Sharpe Hampton arrived by forced marches at
Point Isabella, which Taylor had made his depot for
provisions and supplies, though he had located his army
THE SPY COMPANY.
185
twenty-five miles away on the Rio Grande, having built
the fortification known as Fort Brown opposite the
Mexican town of Matamoras. That when the Rangers
had left Point Isabella to join the American forces,
they had immediately found themselves confronted by
the whole Mexican army, under Arista, which had got
between Taylor and his base of supplies, and was now
about to crush the slender garrison of Point Isabella.
Knowing that intelligence of this was vital to the
American commander, six men had volunteered to make
their way by night through the whole Mexican army,
and that but two had got through alive, Sam Walker
and Sharpe Hampton.
This information, so desperately borne, had been the
salvation of General Taylor, who, leaving a heavy gar-
rison in Fort Brown, had immediately returned to Point
Isabella and reinforced his base of supplies. Then he
had turned upon his foe again and fought his way once
more to the Rio Grande, winning the two pitched bat-
tles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. Even the
account of the gallant Ringgold, killed mid his batteries
during the first engagement, or the charge of May’s
Dragoons at Resaca de la Palma, where they had sa-
bered the Mexican gunners, and in which she sees
young Pelham’s name honorably mentioned, is naught
in her mind as her eyes grow misty over the last para-
graph of the article, which states that both these glori-
ous victories had been made possible by the unexampled
feat of Captains Samuel H. Walker and Sharpe Selby
Hampton.
Over this she gets to crying and wringing her hands
and muttering : “He only thinks of battle.”
Then awed and ashamed at the intensity of her own
emotion, Estrella dries her eyes and comes down to her
father.
This gentleman is sitting on the porch and greets her
i86
THE SPY COMPANY.
in happy voice: “By golly, the war’s commenced
that’ll give us a fortune !”
Here consternation seems to come upon her father
in his elation, for a wild idea entering Estrella’s mind
places a wistful hope in her excited eyes. She says
hurriedly: “Dad — answer me one question, 'square as
you hope to see your God. Have you ever intercepted
any letters ?”
“What do you mean, girl?” cries Godfrey, starting
up, his face for a moment on fire, then growing pallid.
“Oh, I mean, you have never intercepted any letters
from — from Captain Hampton to me ?”
“Certainly not,” says her father promptly, his fea-
tures becoming more composed. Then he breaks forth :
“You — ^you haven’t had any correspondence with this
man ? Answer me square as you hope to see your God,
girl!”
“No, father; nothing but the one letter that I told
you of, and — and — which you were perfectly right in
forbidding me to send, but I am punished for it. Oh,
Heaven, what a humiliation !” she shudders half hys-
terically. “Why I — I kind of threw myself at his. head.
At least, I — I — gave him a hint, I ” And her beau-
tiful face is so piteous that Godfrey, knowing what he
does, should have compunctions of conscience.
But his daughter’s confession only seems to make
him alarmed and angry. Still, judging that wounded
pride will now make the penitent pliable to his wishes,
he controls himself, and, putting his arm possessively
about her, says : “I don’t wish to mention this Hamp-
ton matter again. Understand me, you are to have no
further communication with this man.”
“Yes, my self respect should keep me from that,”
breaks out the girl, her lips trembling, her eyes full of
tears.
“And if you have not pride in this yourself,” mutters
THE SPY COMPANY.
187
Godfrey sternly, “by the Lord Harry, I have pride
enough as our father to keep you from it. Disobey me
in this, and I shall punish you severely.”
“Yes, dad !” she cries almost deliriously, “Only for-
give me for having disobeyed you,” and she half hys-
terically throws herself sobbing into her father’s arms.
At her submission a look of tremendous relief rip-
ples Godfrey’s stern features. Apparently filled with
gratitude at her devotion, seating himself, he draws the
beautiful penitent upon his knee and thanks her for her
compliance with his wishes.
And she, filled with joy that the difference between
her and her father is now absolutely healed, and feeling
that he entirely loves her, this being the first time he
has ever treated her with so much paternal familiarity,
clinging to him, sobs her heart out upon his breast.
So a couple of days later, Godfrey, thinking his
daughter is well in hand, makes Estrella’s pallid feat-
ures grow very red by saying : “You needn’t mope for
gentlemen’s company from now on, daughter. There’s
more news come by , wagon from Matagorda. My su-
perintendent, the boy who is like a son to me, will be up
this evening to talk to me about our big contracts for
cattle to be delivered to Taylor’s Army. He’s a mighty
smart fellow and tends to business and is more to my
liking than these high-falutin’, harum-scarum Ranger
chaps, who haven’t more than a dirty shirt and a six-
shooter to their names.* Have a nice supper and your
wench rigged out for company in the dining-room. Get
his room fixed up smart and put sheets on his bed.
Spruce up a little yourself and do your politest, daugh-
ter.”
*A Texan Ranger’s costume was described as a dirty
shirt and a six-shooter; but it was by the same wag who
stated the costume of a Georgia Colonel was a shirt collar
and a pair of spwrs—Ei.for.
i88
the! spy company.
To this Miss Godfrey responds tenderly: ‘Tapa,
don’t I always feed you well? I’ll have your superin-
tendent’s room in order and see that everything is as
you wish.”
So this evening, arrayed in pretty white muslin, the
girl comes tripping down, prepared to make herself
pleasant to her father’s protege, to be struck with con-
sternation, dismay and affright.
As she enters the supper-room, a gentleman, whose
clothes indicate hasty frontier travel, but who wears
conspicuously a little golden circle, rises to greet her.
“Strella,” says her father, rather nervously, “let me
present to you, Jasper Moncton, the superintendent of
my plantations, whom I have spoken to you about so
often, my trusted right-hand man and friend/'
At these words bashful trepidation overwhelms her.
This meeting has been so unexpected, so unannounced.
True, the girl has heard the darkeys talk of “Massa
Munktoon,” and her father has spoken of “J^-sper,”
but has never connected the two names.
With a slightly amused smile Moncton observes :
“Yes, we met in Saratoga some two years ago, didn’t
we. Miss Godfrey?” Then his dark eyes gleam pos-
sessively as they inspect the loveliness of the maid, her
light muslin dress displaying the graces of her figure,
and her beauty perhaps added to by eyes that are spark-
ling with a kind of modest terror, for now she remem-
bers what this man had said to her when she had re-
jected him two years ago.
Seeming to read her thoughts, Jasper laughs slightly :
“From your face. I’m sure you recollect. You were
in costume at the fancy ball at Saratoga,” adding sig-
nificantly : “I told you that we’d meet again.”
Godfrey making no comment on the man’s words,
Estrella is even more impressed, being certain that her
father must have known all this time of their previous
THE SPY COMPANY.
189
meeting. With this ominous thought in her head, the
young lady has no appetite for supper, though both
gentlemen chat to her quite merrily, and Moncton’s
glances show open admiration of her beauties, which
had been enticing as a schoolgirl, but now in her ex-
quisite young womanhood are enchanting and over-
powering.
The meal being finished, at Godfrey’s request, she
sings, though in half-hearted voice, the songs he likes,
and even, at Moncton’s suggestion, makes very bad
work of some Italian bravura music. But after this
is over, leaving the gentlemen smoking their cigars and
drinking their hot whiskey punches together, she comes
up to her bedroom. Here her face is so perturbed and
startled that Zelma, who is waiting for her, gasps :
“What is the matter. Miss Strella? Is it because he’s
the chap who made love to you at Saratoga that you
look so scared ?”
To her maid the mistress answers nothing, but step-
ping out on to the veranda of her room, presses her
hand to her beating heart and falters : “Why should
I not fear this insidious man, whose hand I spurned
in Saratoga, who told me that sooner or later I should
be his ; that the object of his life would be to gain me.
What does this mean ? When here, alone, far from the
world, I find him my father’s confidant and my father’s
— master r she starts, shuddering at her own sinister
idea, but still repeats it mentally: “That’s what was
in his eyes. Master ! I saw it twice when he glanced
towards my father at the table; then turned his gaze
on me as if I had been brought here for his wooing.
God help me, that’s what has happened to me! I
have been brought here by my father for this man
to conquer and make his.”
Even now it scarce seems real to her, but Moncton’s
voice is heard down stairs calling dominantly in
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THE SPY COMPANY.
slightly intoxicated tones: “Zelma, you wench, skip
quick with a new whiskey bottle, Madame China doll
Turning her fair eyes over the prairie looking to-
wards the Rio Grande, Estrella whispers to the night
wind : “Hampton — I fear I need you — Hampton ! You
saved me from Indians; save me from worse!” then
sighs despairingly: “Oh, my God, even he’s deserted
me !” And misery and terror battle with her love.
CHAPTER XIV.
SHARPE Hampton’s sweetheart.
After an almost sleepless night. Miss Godfrey be-
comes satisfied that what she had divined the evening
before is the grim truth. Coming down stairs next
morning, with a sinking of the heart at wounded mod-
esty and humbled pride, Estrella finds that she has
been brought from far away New York to this distant
Texas plantation to be convenient for the wooing of
Jasper Moncton.
True, she is not told this in so many words. But at
first opportunity her father says to her, when they are
alone together, Moncton being busied with some plan-
tation affairs, for he immediately devotes himself to
running the business of the big estate : “Strella, there’s
a wonderful fellow. No sooner has he fixed up a big
mule and cattle trade with the United States quarter-
master and commissariat officers, who are picking up
things for use in the coming war, than he’s up here
getting the stuff to fill the contracts. He’s just the
kind of a man for this country. In fact, he’s the spruce
young fellow that I would like to settle down with
you.”
THE SPY COMPANY.
191
“Father, please tell me exactly what you mean?”
Though she asks the question, the girl guesses too well
at what he hints.
“Oh, what I said to you when you first came and
made this place a kind of paradise to your old father,”
he answers; “Jasper’s the kind of man that you should
marry, one who won’t take you away from me.”
She doesn’t reply to this, but goes out into the patio
and is very haughty to Moncton, when that dark-eyed,
dashing fellow, whose manners have the polish of the
Mississippi River boat, but hardly the delicacy of a
drawing-room, comes riding up and says : “Good
morning, Miss Strella. The cotton fields are looking
mighty well and the plants doing finely. Like to have
a jaunt and look over them with me ?”
“Thank you, Mr. Moncton,” she answers coolly.
“Papa has forbidden me the use of my horse. It was
a punishment for disobeying him.”
“Ah, she’s a little skittish, is she, Godfrey?” laughs
Jasper in a way that makes her writhe. Then he
makes her writhe a little more ; he suggests : “I’ll
make your peace with your father,” and tears come
into the girl’s eyes at humiliated pride as he says :
“Jim, you mustn’t be too hard on your pretty daugh-
ter. At my request, let up on her a little and permit
her to have her mare to ride over the plantation with
me.”
“Why, of course, if you ask it,” answers Godfrey,
and turning to his daughter, he says: “You ought to
thank Moncton for begging you off. Now run up-
stairs and get into your riding habit.”
“Excuse me. Deprived of the exercise, I have
rather lost my taste for it,” she remarks indifferently.
“Shucks, you need it. It’ll make you brisker,” re-
turns her father. Then his eyes grow entreating:
“You’ll do it for your old daddy?”
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THE SPY COMPANY.
“Yes, if you’ll go with us, papa !” she answers affec-
tionately.
“Reckon, I must,” laughs Godfrey. Some minutes
after the young lady sweeps down haughty as a god-
dess, and stands waiting for her horse, the glove-like
bodice of the riding-habit of that day tracing each
rounded outline of bust and shoulders, and the folds
of its cloth skirt indicating limbs graceful as a nymph’s.
His eyes on fire, Moncton steps to assist the beauti-
ful creature into the saddle. But motioning the darkey
boy to lead Mulefoot beside the veranda, Estrella
springs on the mare’s back and makes Jasper and God-
frey scowl at her by laughing : “Dad, Captain Hamp-
ton showed me that trick !”
Then she rides off with the two men, taking care all
through the excursion to keep quite close to her father’s
side. But she feels in better spirits for the exercise,
and quite politely thanks Mr. Moncton for the side-
saddle.
So the days go on, the girl acting as her father’s
housekeeper and seeing his home is made pleasant, but
feeling that pressure is being gradually brought on
her in the matter of Moncton’s suit. Though perhaps
it is foolishly brought, for it makes her indignant and
rebellious. Before, when she had disobeyed her father,
she has felt sad about it. Now she doesn’t care. She
would write other letters to the Ranger, but he is far
from her, and her pride has been too severely wounded
at receiving no answer nor visit from this man.
In addition she is now quite certain that there is
some secret compact between Godfrey and Moncton,
by which the superintendent holds her father at his
mercy. On the long, hot nights the two have got to
drinking together, and whiskey having made their
tongues careless, once she has heard the employe
THE SPY COMPANY. 193
threaten : “Make your gal quit being offish with me.
You know you’ve got to do it, Jim.”
And now, being driven desperate, for she is not
always able to decline Jasper’s attentions, which are
proffered at every convenient opportunity, and which
under her father’s eye she sometimes cannot entirely
refuse, one day she speaks to Godfrey confidentially,
saying: “Dear dad, if Moncton has any hold upon
you •”
“Any hold upon me !” half screams her father.
“What do you mean, girl? Answer, what do you
mean ?”
“Only this,” she says, bravely, though the appear-
ance of Godfrey is such that it frightens her : “Tell
me about it, and we will together face this man. Send
him away. We were happy before he came. For your
continued pressure upon me to accept his hand is mak-
ing me undutiful even to you, dear dad.”
Recovering his composure at his daughter’s speech,
Jim Godfrey answers so sorrowfully that he gains his
child’s sympathy. “He does have a hold upon me!
I should think you could see that and not be so saucy
with the handsome young fellow, who is sweet on you
as a bee is on honey. You know he’s cottoned to you
ever since he saw you at Saratoga. He told me that
when he came back from the North.”
“So it is true, what I guessed, that I have been
brought here to this plantation to be wooed by this
man whether I willed or not,” mutters Estrella bitter-
ly ; then asks reproachfully : “How could you ?”
“Because I could not help it !” says her father, sig-
nificantly.
“Impossible I” cries the girl. “How dare Moncton
dictate to you or me.”
“In this way,” answers Godfrey, impressively. “Af-
ter the plantation was destroyed, I was powerful short
194
THE SPY COMPANY.
of ready money. Even with the gold I had recovered
it has been a great work to build up this place. I had
to pay the expenses of German immigrants so as to
have settlers enough to make my title to my land grant
good. In addition, these big gangs of niggers cost a
pile of money. I had to borrow it, and Moncton came
forward with the ready cash. Until lately, when this
war has given me a little chance to crawl out of my hole,
I haven’t been able to get hold of any great amount of
money. So things have gone on, until with interest
and notes and mortgages to Moncton, he could close up
the whole thing and put me and you out on the prairie
with no more money than when the Rangers picked me
up crazy after the fight at Rock Springs. But Jasper’s
a noble fellow and ’ll see me through all right.”
So far, Godfrey has made his plea quite skilfully,
for his daughter has uttered a sigh of sympathy when
he has spoken of being as penniless as when he re-
turned to find his people massacred and his plantation
destroyed. But now her parent makes a mistake : “It
wouldn’t suit you, I can see,” he goes on, “with your
fine lady airs and handsome dresses, to be put out bare-
footed into the world. If you get high spirited with
Moncton, I’m afraid he’ll cut up rough about it, for
he thinks you the finest girl in the world. Remem-
ber, every time you turn up your nose at him or say
a saucy word to him, you’re putting danger on your
poor old dad as well as yourself.” Noting that direct
methods make his child rebellious, Godfrey is playing
the aged parent act.
, Her answer proves he is doing his role quite well.
“I don’t think of myself, father,” says the girl, gen-
erously, “though I will think of you. Give me time to
consider this subject, and if the task is not too hard,
perhaps ”
“You’ll do the right thing by Jasper,” cries the old
THE $PY COMPANY.
195
man, enthusiastically. “You’ll marry him; you’ll give
me grandchildren to play about my knee — ”
But the future grandfather has painted domestic life
tOo vividly. His daughter emits a short, horrified
scream and runs away, though her face is not blush-
ing ; it is pale with repulsion.
To her father, some little time afterwards, she says :
“It is impossible ! Ask me to work for you ; ask me
to slave for you ; but marry that man, I cannot.”
But it is very hard for a girl practically alone with
these two men on this secluded plantation, to always
resist a father whom she loves and always to repel the
attention of a dashing, persavering fellow, who will
assist her into the saddle and ride at her side, for under
paternal eyes Estrella cannot always decline Moncton’s
escort.
About this time horror comes to her; the maiden,
shrinking from Jasper’s wooing, begins to fear that
punishments are ordered to the negroes so that she will
beg them off from her suitor. For now she finds that
to get mercy for the slaves, as has been her wont, she
has to plead with Moncton, not her father. But her
humanity is greater than her pride, and she humbles
herself to do this, though on one of these occasions
Jasper says to her : “Am I always to — to do your bid-
ding for nothing? Don’t you, my dear girl, remember
Saratoga? Why do you always greet with cold looks
the fellow who you know is bound to have you ?’^
His audacious arm would go round her enticing
waist, but she mutters faintly: “Have pity on my
father,” yet shudders from him, hanging her fair head
abashed beneath his too ardent gaze.
And perhaps this young lady, who has grown droop-
ing and pathetic during these two summer months of
constant pressure and persuasion, might succumb to
her father’s entreaties, which become each day more
urgent, did not about this time arise in her mind first
196
THE SPY COMPANY.
a mighty joy, then a tremendous, awe-inspiring sus-
picion.
Knowing that Hampton has left San Antonio with
his company full two months before this, Godfrey one
day proposes that Estrella take a trip to that town with
Moncton and himself, as he has to see Hays, the Col-
onel of the Texan Rangers, whose young face is grow-
ing old with his efforts to get his full regiment equipped
and down to Taylor at Matamoras. But the State of
Texas is very slow and very poor, and the Texan
Colonel, having some difficulty in mounting his com-
mand, is now trying to induce Godfrey to take his
guarantee and that of the State and furnish him the
horses.
So the girl, anxious to get away from a monotony
that has overburdened her spirits, makes with her
father and her suitor a very long afternoon ride, and
arrives in San Antonio de Bexar, coming up the banks
of its beautiful tree-shaded river into the old town that
a few years before had been entirely Mexican, but now
has a few Gringos in its inhabitants and a lot of Texan
Rangers about its unpaved streets.
The evening is well advanced when she arrives, and
Estrella, arising rather late the next morning, finds
that her father and Moncton have left the old Mexican
inn and have gone off to their business with the Ran-
ger officers. After a cup of chocolate and a hmelo,
Spanish fashion, she wanders about the dreamy old
pueblo, gazing at the Alamo as a sacred place,
and thinking of the martyrdom, ten years before, of
Travis, Bonham, Bowie and Crockett, and those other
Texan immortals who died that their State might live.
Finally, strolling from the ruins of the old church
fortress, whose battered walls are the altar of Texan
liberty, she returns to the old tavern in which the party
have made their headquarters. Here her father and
THE SPY COMPANY.
197
Moncton come in, the latter saying gloomily : “No
trade. Hays has nothing better than Texas scrip to
offer us.”
“Yes, as soon as we have dinner, we’ll get into the
saddle again for Live Oaks,” remarks Gpdfrey, who
has just kissed his daughter’s lips, proffered for morn-
ing’s greeting.
They are about to sit down to a mid-day meal when
a faint cheering comes very distantly up the street.
“Jingo, wonder if there’s news of another victory
from Taylor?” remarks her father.
“Don’t think that’s possible,” says Moncton ; “Tay-
lor won’t be able to move for a couple of months at the
rate he’s getting ready.”
“Yes, and you’re keeping him from it,” cries Es-
trella; “such men as you, father. When you say that
American victory means the settlement of all these
lands and enormous wealth to you, why don’t you give
up a little for the present and let Hays have horses for
his regiment, who defend us from Indians and Mexi-
cans ?”
“Why, you’re quite a stump speaker,” laughs Monc-
ton, and her father smilingly pats his daughter’s cheek
and says : “Business first, my child ; then sentiment.”
About this time a Ranger comes riding up, and
checking his pony in front of the hotel, calls : “Jack
Hays wants to see you again, gentlemen. He’s got
something from Taylor’s quartermaster, gentlemen,
that will fix you, he says.”
“Golly, a contract from Uncle Sammy !” cries Monc-
ton, and the two men go out together and hurry down
the street, leaving Miss Godfrey alone to get a Mex-
ican dinner.
So smiling rather sadly at herself, the young lady
rolls in her pretty fingers tortillas and dips up with
them her stew of chili-colorado and tasajo.
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THE SPY COMPANY.
Then, interested in the life in the pueblo, she wan-
ders off by herself into the picturesque Spanish streets,
and is quite contentedly inspecting some Mexican boys
with donkeys and women who are washing clothes on
the banks of San Pedro Creek, when to her delight
and astonishment she chances to raise her bright eyes
and place them upon Wild Harry.
To her excited : “Mr. Love, don’t you remember
Estrella Godfrey?” he answers rather surlily: “Sure
I remember ye, miss. But it seemed to me as if ye
didn’t remember ns:'
“Remember you. Why not ? Did you not hear what
I said to you when you left me : ‘To come to the
hacienda if you ever wanted a home or a friend.’ ”
Then she breaks out reproachfully : “And you didn't
go to the front with Hampton’s company?”
The answer she gets horrifies her.
“No, I’m in Gillespie’s,” answers Harry gloomily.
“I didn’t care to go with a man what’s got death in
his eye. I want one chance for my life and I don’t
think Sharpe Hampton cares to have any chance. Ye
see thar are some purty nice gals that gets men’s hearts,
and, well — well, ye’re the only woman that ever didn’t
take a shine to Sharpe Hampton.”
“I don’t understand what you mean to insinuate,”
returns the reproached one, haughtily. “Even if you
are crazy, you’ve no right to speak to me in that man-
ner or on such a subject.” Miss Godfrey moves away,
but, womanlike, she will have the last word. She turns
and adds: “Besides, you’re unjust.”
“Unjust? No, I ain’t unjust and I ain’t crazy. I’m
only cute, I am.”
But Estrella is so eager in her self-exculpation that
she goes on : “I did write to Captain Hampton.”
“Wall, then he never got it.”
“Never got it! What makes you think that?” asks
THE SPY COMPANY.
199
Miss Godfrey, her eyes, that had been distressed, now
beaming as the sun on Mr. Love.
“Wall, when I bid Sharpe good-bye, he said : . ‘Har-
ry, ye’ll find me t’other side of Jordan.’ And,” asserts
the Texan, inspecting the superb yet ethereal creature
who stands blushing before him, “no man that ye’d
treated just right and was dead honey on ye from his
spurs to his scalp-lock, would want to go t’other
side of Jordan unless he toted ye with him !”
“Never got it! Never got my letter! And Pablo
swore he delivered it.”
“What! Pablo, a Gfeaser, I reckon? Trust a
Greaser? Waugh! Somebody’s been ambushin’ ye,
Miss Godfrey.”
“Perhaps,” answers Estrella, so sadly that Mr. Love
suggests encouragingly : “Keep up yer spunk ! Seein’
ye ain’t to blame, Pll tell the Cap ! Perhaps that will
save his life.”
“Oh, will you?” cries the young lady, for this mat-
ter is too close to her to let false modesty thwart it.
“Please tell Captain Hampton that I did write to him
and that I am grateful for all that he has done for me.
Please don’t fail to tell him that.”
Here Love gives her an awful shock. He chuckles :
“Very well, Pll tell on ye right off.”
“Right off? What do you mean?”
“I mean Cap Hampton’s just come up from Mata-
moras, ridin’ day an’ night, with an order from Uncle
Sam’s Quartermaster-Gineral that will git the horses
for our rigiment from any bronco dealer on earth.
Ye just take yer stand by the river bank down yonder
in them pecans, Miss. Pll bring him to yer,” and
Harry strides away.
During this last oration, the maiden has been too
surprised and confused to open her lips. She now runs
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THE SPY COMPANY.
after him, crying: ^‘No, no! For Heaven’s sake, what
will he think of me !”
‘‘That ye’re about right, I reckon,” laughs the Ran-
ger. Gazing at her fairylike loveliness, he chuckles :
‘T’ll tell the Cap to load fer butterfly 1” and his long legs
soon carry him out of hearing from Miss Godfrey, the
clinging skirt of whose riding-habit prevents very rapid
movement.
For a moment she stands, her eyes frightened, her
features pale and twitching in bashful tremor; then
her face grows red as some prairie roses at her feet;
she says determinedly : “Fll do it 1” and walks trem-
blingly down a lawn-like slope to sit by the side of the
blue waters of the San Antonio flowing in pretty rip-
ples between banks shaded picturesquely by the vary-
ing foliage of grand oaks, graceful ash trees and a
grove of pecans whose leaves aflford the young lady a
grateful shade this warm July day.
But after a little, the strain of waiting overcomes
her; she starts as if to fly from the passions raging
within her distracted soul, and mutters jeering-
ly : “If he got my letter and didn’t heed it, then my
message by word of mouth will hardly bring him to
me.”
A few days ago she no more could have waited for
Hampton by appointment than have given herself to
him unasked; but the helpless, despairing misery of
the last month, during which have been forced on her
the attentions of a man she loathes, from whose suit
there is no protection by her father, when in fact she
knows Godfrey will ultimately exercise direct authori-
ty to compel her to become this man’s bride, lends the
half frantic girl a kind of desperate boldness. To her-
self she cries : “I have only had one love in this world,
and — and Harry said that he wanted death because of
my ingratitude. Nonsense, ’twas my love he wanted.
THE SPY COMPANY.
201
Hampton’s beating heart against my own told me that
as I rode in his arms fleeing from the Comanches. It
was the foolish, headstrong, impassioned words of that
wild young dragoon that kept his lips silent!” then
sneers at herself : “That’s as immodest and arrogant
conceit as woman evef had ! No, no, I must not meet
him ! What will my father think of my humiliating
myself again to Hampton against his absolute com-
mands ?”
This she answers by: “Pish, it is not dad’s correc-
tion I fear; ’tis that my pride may be once more
wounded I” and muttering hoarsely : “That shall not
be!” rises to hurry from this place. But in the very
act she pauses and through her lips her heart speaks;
she half screams, half falters : “Sharpe !”
And it is as if their separation had never been;
the Ranger Captain is looking at her as he did on the
prairie. For Hampton, his dress disordered by the aw-
ful travail of sixty continuous hours in the saddle, is
standing before the beautiful object of his love.
At her cry, the great hope that thrills him makes this
warrior of the plains tireless, his eyes grow as brightly
possessive as a panther’s, though hers are timid and
shrinking as a doe’s. It is the first time she has called
him by his Christian name; her accents carry with
them, love, passion, greeting !
That during twelve weeks he has hungered for,
dreamed of and despaired of this maiden, who looks
beautiful as one of Diana’s nymphs eluding Actoeon, as
with her riding skirt gathered up in one hand, she is
trying with faltering feet to flee from him, makes him
do the best thing for any lover — if he is loved.
The training of a trapper is to catch his game.
Sharpe Hampton catches his ! With one athletic stride,
he has the flying beauty encircled by an arm of steel,
and is half whispering, half moaning to her : “Why for
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THE SPY COMPANY.
three months did you take the sun out of my heavens,
sweetheart?’’ and she in a semi-crazy way is sobbing
and crying, and her fair head has fallen upon his shoul-
der. The next second their hearts are beating against
each other as wildly as they did when he had borne
her in his arms over the prairie from the Indians. But
in addition, their lips have met; not in one kiss, but
in a dozen — not short ones, either, but whole-souled
and passionate with youthful love. And panting on
his breast, she who ten minutes since had thought her-
self the most miserable girl in the world, now thinks
herself the happiest on earth — for she knows that she
is his.
Then modesty getting the best of love, she falters :
“Oh, Heavens, what must you think of me!” Next
questions in pathetic reproach : “Sharpe, how could
you ever go to battle and to death without even bid-
ding me good-bye? Was it the wild words of that
crazy Pelham, the dragoon, that I heard from over the
balcony at Corpus Christi, when he told you to take
good care of his treasure, that kept your lips silent
when you — you must have known — that I loved you?
My heart beating against yours in the wilderness as
wildly as it does now must have told you that.” This
last is said with averted head ; the Ranger’s eyes are
too ardent for her to meet his glance.
“I thought Pelham had a right to you,” answers
Hampton, in frontier simplicity.- “Now I know he
hadn’t. You wouldn’t give yourself to me if he had.
You’re not the kind of girl to play with two men at
one time.”
“No, indeed. I’m not!” says Estrella, very truth-
fully, and receives for her candor a very pleasant re-
ward.
After a little both grow slightly more rational, and
sit down side by side. Rut soon the lady commences to
THE SPY COMPANY.
203
ask questions ; “Why did you not answer my note that
I wrote asking you before you left for danger and bat-
tle to come and bid me good-bye
“The only missive that I have received from your
hacienda/’ remarks Hampton shortly, his eyes resting
very tenderly on the loveliness before him, for the girl
in her excitement and passion looks in the flesh even
more enchanting than perchance she had seemed to his
imagination, and he has thought of her very often,
“was one from your father, in which he enclosed a
draft on Galveston for your expenses and what he
deemed the price of Mulefoot, that I had left as a
present for you.”
“Why, it was almost an insult !” cries his sweetheart,
indignantly.
“Yes, I hardly thought it over polite. At all events,
I concluded it indicated your father wished to be rid of
an unpleasant obligation.”
“And dad did that?” says Estrella bitterly; then
queries eagerly : “And you never received my letter
begging you to come and say good-bye to me? The
one with the little flower in it, one of the posies you
plucked for me on the prairie. I kept the rest, Sharpe,”
murmurs the girl, archly but diffidently, “though papa
commanded me never to think of you again, and my
pride told me that, too. And if I hadn’t been nearly
crazy with misery, I don’t think you would have got
me, Sharpe.”
“Crazy with misery. You’ve turned to me because
you’re unhappy?”
“Oh, no; not that. But I don’t think I would have
ever seen you again if I hadn’t been so desperate that
I — I wasn’t as modest as I generally am.”
Whereupon Miss Godfrey tells of Moncton’s pur-
suit of her, stating that her father is pressing her to
marry his superintendent because they’ll both be pan-
204
THE SPY COMPANY.
pers if she doesn’t. “But I — I couldn’t give myself to
any man but you, and — and that’s embarrassing
enough,” falters the young lady ; for the first rap-
ture of surrender being over, Hampton’s eyes are
so ardent that she hangs her head, though perhaps
she loves him more because, having modestly won her,
he now fondles her as backwoods boy does frontier
sweetheart. Though in truth the Captain is very ten-
der with this graceful creature, who seems to him like
a fairy descended to earth to bless him with her ethe-
real beauty and radiant love.
She now also receives the consolation of being sup-
ported by a man who may be very diffident in his woo-
ing, but is very strong in his possession. She is sure
that having won her, her Ranger sweetheart will never
permit her to be another’s.
Hampton says shortly : “Sweetheart, don’t let that
bother you a little bit. You just tell your dad that
you’re Sharpe Hampton’s promised wife, and you tell
that also to that Moncton when he comes talking honey
to you, and he’ll know it means that he lets you alone.
“Or,” she breaks in sadly, “or you risk your life in
personal combat.”
“I’m accustomed to that.”
“Yes, you risked it against a whole Mexican army,”
she murmurs ; then sighs : “Did you do that because
you didn’t think you’d get me?”
The answer that she receives is not as complimentary
as perchance she expected. “Not exactly,” answers
Hampton promptly. “I did it because it was my duty.
Of course, I felt blue as thunckr, but I don’t commit
suicide for misery. You wouldn’t want happiness to
make a coward of me, either, I suppose ?”
“Oh, no,” sighs his sweetheart. “Of course, I know
you’re compelled to go to the front.”
THE SPY COMPANY.
205
“Oh, not immediately. Taylor won’t be able to move
for six weeks. I only brought the order up to get the
horses for Hays’s command two hours ago. The boys
won’t be ready to go down for two or three weeks.
Worth’s Division won’t be concentrated at Camargo for
a month more. A third of the volunteers and regulars
haven’t left New Orleans yet for the big campaign in
Northern Mexico, and by the White Buffalo, in the two
or three weeks’ leave I’ll get” — Hampton emphasizes
his words with a possessive pressure on the delicate
waist that vibrates in his grasp — “we’re going to have —
if you say so, girl — the very nicest honeymoon ”
“Oh, Heaven !” gasps the young lady.
“And I’m going to have the very sweetest bride man
ever had.”
“You mean you would marry me immediately ?” fal-
ters Miss Godfrey, in almost terrified amazement.
“Why, I’ve — I’ve only seen your face a few months.”
“Oh, yes; I’ve only seen your face that time, too.
Reckon I might as well be scared as you. But I’m
gritty in the marriage matter, I am,” says Sharpe, en-
thusiastically. “Bill Baldwin only knew his girl two
days, and Luther Loring married his wife the morning
after he rescued her from the Apaches. You’ve got
pluck enough for a Ranger’s wife, Strella !” It’s the
first time he has used her Christian name, but it seems
to come easily to his tongue. “And after we’ve had two
or three weeks of bliss, you put the kiss of a soldier’s
wife on my lips and you say : ‘Sharpe, you go down
and do your duty for your country.’ ”
“But my father !” murmurs the demanded one, trem-
blingly.
“Oh, don’t bother yourself about him. I’ll take care
of that. I’ve seen dads pick out the wrong men for
their daughters’ husbands and — guess again,” laughs
Hampton, as if the affair was settled. “You explain
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THE SPY COMPANY.
the matter to the old man and I’ll be down to see you
to-morrow evening. I cannot get away before. But
perhaps you’d better tell your father to let you stay up
in San Antonio till the wedding.”
“No — no, I must break it to him quietly,” pleads the
girl. “Sharpe, give me a few hours to break it to dad,
though I suppose he’ll see it in my. face. Besides, it
won’t be so hard after all, for papa loves me.
“V'ery well,” remarks Hampton, “you tell dad in
your own way. I’m right glad you say that you’re no
great shakes for money. Tell you the truth, that big
hacienda always seemed to stand between us, but I’ve
a little plantation of my own up in Shelby County, and
if you’re the girl I think you are, you’d share my blan-
ket if I hadn’t but one to my name !”
“Yes, I would !” answers Strella, stoutly. Though
her face is very red, as for this nice answer she re-
ceives a kiss that makes her quiver from head to heel.
“Remember this, I can’t give you more than a couple
of days to get ready for the wedding,” whispers the
Ranger, very longingly.
“No, Sharpe, that’ll be enough, because I — I love
you,” mumiurs Estrella. She puts her arms tenderly
about him, and makes him happy with a kiss that car-
ries her soul to her lips.
But here Hampton mutters : “I’m afraid I’ve been
a little selfish in my love. I’ve no right to ask you to
hitch your fate, sweetheart, with a man’s who may be
dead in a month. Though I’d like to call you wife
before I die, dear one — just wouldn’t seem quite ri^ht
if I didn’t.”
“And you shall !” cries his fiancee, impetuously.
“You said two days — in two days I call you husband
and you call me ”
“Wife!” whispers Hampton, taking off his som-
brero to her in his simple frontier way, for the word
THE SPY COMPANY.
207
“wife” produces reverence as well as ardor in true man-
hood.
So, with her hand in her affianced’s, Estrella strolls
out of the pecan grove to grow red under the eyes of
Mr. Love, who, apparently awaiting them, sits whit-
tling a willow branch.
The frontiersman gazes at the coming bride, emits
a prolonged whistle and ejaculates, sententiously :
“Dropped !”
“Yes, I’m Sharpe Hampton’s gal !” says the new
fiancee, bashfully but proudly, in frontier fashion,
though in truth she wonders even now whether she is
rational or not, her “dropping” having been so sudden.
CHAPTER XV.
A MIGHTY SUSPICION.
Here Hampton says: “Love, you needn't open
your mouth about this to the boys !”
“No, sirree !” answers Harry.
But Miss Godfrey, taking a sweetheart’s privilege,
suddenly cries : “Sharpe, you haven’t had any sleep
for sixty hours. Now, be a good boy and go off and
get some rest. Mr. Love will take me back to the
hotel !”
“Right ye are,” rejoins the frontiersman, and turns
his back abruptly upon the couple. This, as they are
still secluded by shrubbery from the street, gives
Hampton an opportunity for a farewell kiss. The
girl, as she returns it, makes him very happy by prat-
tling in an affianced’s voice : “Now please do what I
say. Get a little sleep. You’re not all iron, you —
you’re flesh and blood.”
2o8
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Oh, very much flesh and blood when I get you in
my arms,” answers Hampton, with such a look in his
eyes that the coming bride retreats from him laugh-
ingly, yet blushingly. To her he says, significantly :
“Don’t forget. Sis, I’ll be down to see dad to-morrow
evening at Live Oaks and make arrangements for the
wedding.”
“Yes, Sharpe, to-morrow evening,” whispers Miss
Godfrey, and watches with her heart in her eyes the
Captain stride back towards the Rangers’ quarters just
across the great plaza, then very happily and excitedly
trips off towards the inn, escorted by Mr. Love.
“Thar’s purty considerable ginger left in Sharpe
yit, allowin’ he’s travell’d horseback three days and
nights runnin’, eh?” suggests Wild Harry.
“Y-e-s.” murmurs the girl.
“Ye look as if he’d been ’bout as spry wid ye as three
or four city fellers !” laughs her companion, “yer hair’s
mussed awful.”
“Yes, but please don’t talk about it, Mr. Love,” fal-
ters Estrella, hanging her head, though there is a
mighty elation in her heart. She thinks : “This
morning, shuddering from the proffered hand of Jas-
per Moncton ; this afternoon, happy in the arms of
Sharpe Hampton.” Suddenly her bliss is tempered
with the direful consideration : “How shall I tell my
father when he says what I am about to do will bring
beggary upon him?” and the agitated girl would go
into a miserable brown study were Mr. Love, the es-
cort, to give her time for contemplation.
As he walks by her side he is chuckling: “Ye war
jisl like the coon up the tree and Martin Scott,* weren’t
* Col. Martin Scott of the Fifth Infantry, who was killed
when gallantly leading the American assault on the Casa Mata
at the battle of Molino del Rey, was *so celebrated for his
deadly marksmanship with the rifle in the South and West that
THE SPY COMPANY.
209
ye, Miss ’Strella ? When he come along you say :
‘Oh, dat you, Sharpe Hampton? You’re such a dead
shot, ril come right down ”
This, emphasized by the frontiersman’s coonlike ac-
tions, would make Miss Godfrey laugh in a half bash-
ful, half hysterical way, did not the harum-scarum fel-
low suddenly say : “And he’s most kissed yer mam-
my’s locket off ye.” For in her interview with her
affianced Miss Godfrey has pulled this trinket from
out her riding habit to show it to the Ranger Captain
as proof of her father’s great love and tenderness for
her, and now it is carelessly dangling about her white
neck by its golden chain.
“Ah, you recognize the trinket,” murmurs Miss God-
frey, much more interested in other things than in her
jewelry.
“Sartin ! Every one at Live Oaks knowed that ’ere
locket. Yer dad ordered it made down in Mata-
moras. It’s Greaser workmanship. Look here !
Reckon I do know the locket !” Wild Harry takes the
bauble as it dangles from her, and shows he is well
acquainted with the trinket, for he presses the hidden
spring and astounds Estrella by saying : “How do you
like yer dad’s face!”
“My dad’s face !” half screams the girl.
“Shucks, it’s empty,” mutters the erratic fellow.
“Ye yanked dad out to put Sharpe’s picture in, eh ?”
“But there was a picture there two days ago,” whis-
pers Estrella. “You said my father’s face!” Then
she suddenly asks, a strange quiver in her voice :
“What was the portrait like? You’re certain my
father had one painted ?”
the story of a raccoon, perched on a very high tree, seeing
Scott pass along with a walking stick in hand, and crying out ;
“Dat you, Martin Scott? You needn’t shoot, I’ll come down!”
was a popular anecdote at that time. — Editof .
210
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Oh, sure as ye’re trembling now. On ivory; or
chiney. Yer dad said it was to send to yer mammy.
Bless yer heart, he was so proud of his picture, he
showed it to everybody about the plantation. Didn’t
he show it to ye ? It had an Italian name written
under it.”
“Amalfi !” screams the girl.
“Why, yes ; ye guessed it fust time !” answers Love,
and, playing with the locket, does not note that his lis-
tener’s face has grown pallid and her eyes strained by
some marvellous and astounding thought. “That was
the name of the travelling Italian that painted it,” con-
tinues Harry, closing the trinket. “The pronouncing
of Amalfi always kinder stuck in my windpipe. He
was a no-count kind of a dago, who’d wandered up
here jist afore yer dad went on that ’ere expedition
lookin’ fer the Gran Quevira* that time when the Co-
manches came down and wiped out the plantation and
killed my mammy. You remember, girl, my mammy !”
Love’s eyes grow so dim he doesn’t notice the mon-
strous effect his words have had upon his companion.
For Miss Godfrey is thinking very hard, and now
has a strange suspicion in her voice, as she is saying
with lips that have grown ashen ; “You can see my
father to-day without wounding your feelings by visit-
ing the place of your mother’s death. He is here in
town.”
“What, Jim Godfrey here! It’s strange I haven’t
put my eyes on him !” cries Harry, heartily.
“Yes, he’s now at the old Mexican posada, talking
to your Colonel. Supposing you go down and shake
* The myth of the lost mines of la Gran Quevira was at
one time in Texas as much believed in as those of the Lost
Cabin, the Silver Bullet and the Death Valley mines are at
present among many of the prospectors of the West. — Editor.
THE SPY COMPANY.
2II
his hand, and come along with him. Fd — I’d like to
see you very much together.”
”Wall, Fd like to see myself together with Jim God-
frey very much, Miss Strella,” remarks the frontiers-
man. “Though I shan’t say nothin’ to dad. Like to
tell dad yerself. Little bashful, eh? For Estrella is
quivering and waving like a lily swaying in the breeze.
"Yes, and even if you don’t see my dad,” falters the
girl, a curious, weird intensity in her voice, "don’t say
anything about this locket or — or anything else to
Hampton. At least, not until you’ve seen me.”
“Why, sartin’, but I don’t see how that makes any
difference.” Here the frontiersman interrupts his own
speech by suddenly crying out : “Great Golly ! Love
has made ye luny !”
For Estrella is reeling and gasping half hysterical-
ly: “You said my father’s face was in that locket.
My father’s face ! Oh, it seemed to come to me out of
the past ! Good heavens, I begin to remember, I — I — ”
“Holy poker, this hot sun or Sharpe Hampton has
rubbed yer poor brain out!” mutters Wild Harry, and
seizes the delicate girl to keep her from falling. Then
he takes her in his strong arms and carries her back
to the inn, where, finding her father has not returned,
he says to the Mexican hostess : “Here’s a gal who’s
got sunstruck or high strikes or something. Ye re-
vive her. I’m too bashful to unlace her stays and do
the proper thing by her!”
As soon as “the proper thing” is done for Miss God-
frey in the retirement of a little chamber of the posada
by a couple of Mexican girls, Mr. Love goes away to
find her daddy.
Quite shortly Estrella revives and goes to pacing her
room, muttering: “That picture taken from the
locket, by whom? and why taken? The sight of it
was a surprise to my father, my— Is he my father?
212
THE SPY COMPANY.
Oh, God, what is in my head ? Is he my father ? But
Love will see him. Ten years can’t have changed him
too much to be recognized. Still, it is very curious,
very suspicious.” And she recalls the mysterious
change in her father’s letters after the Rock Springs
fight, and begins to remember what Hampton had told
her on the steamer about the man they had rescued
from the desert combat, and his going back to the Live
Oaks hacienda, and, after discovering every living
thing upon it dead, making up his mind to rebuild and
restock it, though before that he had only intended to
obtain the gold buried in its ruins and then go away
from it. Frantically she strikes her forehead and asks :
“Could it be possible?” and answers herself: “Yes,
it might! Every white man on the plantation butch-
ered. Nearly every settler that could possibly have
seen his face gone to death at the massacres of the
Alamo and Goliad. Every negro on his plantation run
off ; the whole country deserted and made a desert by
raids of the savages and forays of the Mexican ranch-
eros. It might be !”
Then, sweetheart’s confidence coming into her, she
murmurs: “I must see Sharpe. I must get Wild
Harry to bring him to me,” next pauses and mutters :
“My Heaven, no ; ''not till I am sure. If Sharpe doubt-
ed my father also, and dad turned out to be dad, then
he would never forgive my husband. It will be hard
enough now when Hampton’s marriage to me ruins
dad,” next bursts out hysterically: “Dad! Oh, I pray
Heaven he is dad !” and through her kindly mind comes
a frantic hope that her suspicion may come to naught.
She has given this man a daughter’s tender love so
long she finds it very hard to think it only dross. She
has placed him on high in her confidence and affec-
tions, ’tis difficult to throw him into the dust. She
THE SPY COMPANY.
213
murmurs to herself : “Oh, God, I loved him so dearly,
and yet I must know!”
Pacing the room, she waits for Harry to return, and,
finally, such is her anxiety, goes down into the street
and watches for him.
But the Texan Ranger never comes along, and, tired
with wracking anxiety and tremendous suspense, the
girl goes back into the inn and seats herself on the
low balcony of the posada and still watches.
Shortly after Godfrey and Moncton come hastily
walking up the street, full of the excitement of a big
horse trade. As they pause at the entrance of the inn
she, sitting on the low balcony that is scarce five feet
over their heads, hears Moncton say to Godfrey :
“That order of Uncle Sam’s Quartermaster’s all right.”
“Sure,” replies the other ; then asks : “Do you know
who brought it ?” and whispers some name she cannot
distinguish.
This is greeted by a muttered execration from Jas-
per, who adds : “Curse him I Fortunately, he’s been
in the saddle three days and wasn’t very lively to get
about town to see her.”
“That’s so much the more reason we’d better get
her out of town quick,” answers Godfrey, and orders
their horses to be hastily brought up.
At their summons the girl descends to them. Fortu-
nately, it is now growing dark, and they don’t look very
closely at her, but when her father approaches her to
place her in the saddle she draws slightly back and
says : “Mr. Moncton, please.” This so delights both
Godfrey and her suitor that both gentlemen seem
very much pleased with their fair charge as they lope
along.
But between them rides a girl whose eyes sparkle
as the stars of the night above her, and whose soul is
wracked with “Is this man my father? If he is, for
214
THE SPY COMPANY.
my suspicion I’ll sue his pardon on my bended knees.
If he is not, let him beware, for he has accepted from
my lips the kisses of a daughter.” In her agitation she
has almost forgotten that she is coming bride to the
Ranger Captain.
Elated with Estrella’s complaisance to Moncton, and
likewise a successful horse trade, and talking mostly
of that, her two escorts during this dark ride do not
note the distracting passions on Miss Godfrey’s face.
This is very fortunate. It gives the young lady
not only time to control the display of her emotions,
but to determine upon her methods of action. But the
conversation as they ride along brings Miss Godfrey’s
thoughts once more upon her love, yet also makes her
reticent in regard to it.
The gentlemen are quite merry over the price they
have got for their horses from the Ranger Colonel,
Godfrey saying: “Jingo, didn’t Hays hold out on the
figure for those broncos ; but he had to have the nags
to get his command down to Taylor in time,” adding,
grimly: “Reckon many of his boys will leave their
bones the other side of the Rio Grande.”
Estrella is quite sure from the tone of his voice that
he hopes Hampton will be one of those doomed to
death.
But Jasper here startles both his companions by re-
marking: “Jim, did you see that long-legged Ranger
squinting at you for the last ten minutes you were fix-
ing up the horse trade with Hays?”
“Not Sharpe Hampton?” asks Godfrey, uneasily.
And Estrella, exhibiting no surprise at his words, he
glances at her, but she is too interested in Jasper’s com-
munication to notice this.
Moncton answers easily : “No, it wasn’t the Cap-
tain ; I know him by sight. It was a slim, crazy-eyed
fellow in buckskin, who looked at you as if you had
THE SPY COMPANY.
215
made him a little more luny than usual. I was going
to tell you about him, but didn’t like to interrupt when
you were getting such a long price for the horses from
the Texan Colonel. Some of the boys in the saloon
called him Wild Harry !”
“Wild Harry! Why, I — I thought he was with
Hampton’s company down at Matamoras I” stammers
Godfrey. His voice is husky. Despite the darkness,
Estrella can see him sway in his seat. She is not sur-
prised that under the plea of cinching up his saddle
Godfrey lets her ride ahead while he and Jasper go
into quite a long, muttered conversation.
In it apparently Moncton learns something that im-
presses him also ; when the two men overtake the young
lady neither seems in such high spirits as before.
This gives her suspicions greater strength. Miss
Godfrey now makes up her mind not to mention her
promise to Hampton. “Why should I sue — blushing,
trembling and embarrassed — for a father’s blessing un-
til I am sure he has a father’s authority and love?”
she thinks cogently, and is quite relieved at postponing
an ordeal that even in her sweetheart’s arms had made
her cold with apprehension.
So, taking it rather leisurely, after a long ride
through the darkness they reach the hacienda of Live
Oaks some time after midnight, to be ushered in by
Zelma, who has supper on the table awaiting them.
As Estrella avoiding Moncton’s attentions, hastily
slips off her horse, she is no more the girl who yester-
day had left this place drooping under a father’s en-
treaties that it almost breaks her heart to deny, nor a
bashful maiden, trembling at the wooing of a man she
loathes ; but a woman determined to give herself to the
man she loves, and to make sure the man assuming a
father’s station to her has a parent’s authority over her
before she asks his blessing.
2i6
THE SPY COMPANY.
Even as she dismounts Estrella shows how care-
fully she has considered her position. If Godfrey has
purloined the picture, her not mentioning her loss will
make him suspicious. As soon as she is in the door-
way of the house, and standing in the light, she says,
her fragile hand playing nervously with her locket :
“Papa’’ — the word comes very hard to her tongue
now — “I hope you won’t be very angry at me, but in
San Antonio I discovered I had lost the picture from
my locket. It must have fallen out while I was gal-
loping so recklessly into the town.” The languor and
great exhaustion of the long ride make her eyes
tranquil, but they are bright enough to notice that at
mention of the locket a sudden anxiety has flown into
both men’s faces, indicating that they have discussed
the trinket. Her careless words apparently bring re-
lief to them, for Moncton asks, nonchalantly : “What
locket?” and Godfrey cries heartily: “Shucks, don’t
bother about it. I’ll give you my picture to put in
that fol-de-rol on your wedding day, daughter. Do
the polite to her, Jasper, and tote your sweetheart in to
supper !”
Estrella, embarrassed at the words, has tact enough
to refuse her suitor’s escort to the table on the
ground of extreme fatigue, and to permit, though she
winces under it, a paternal salute on her white fore-
head from Godfrey. So, leaving the two gentlemen
to smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey together,
the girl goes wearily but hastily up to her chamber.
Here, fortunately, the great joy of approaching nup-
tials almost obliterates the miserable uncertainty of
her position. But after a little, exhausted by her long,
journey, nature claims its meed, rest comes to her, and,
despite excitement, she has the blessing of a dreamless
sleep.
Awakening early in the forenoon, a sweetheart’s rap-
THE SPY COMPANY.
217
ture thrills her, and she whispers to herself, longingly :
‘This evening Sharpe comes to tell papa.” Then, full
recollection smiting her, she moans to herself : “How
to discover, for I will discover ! I’ll ask no father’s
blessing on my nuptials till I know !”
Pondering on this, an unutterable horror crushes
her ; she shudders : “If — if he is not my father, per-
haps he killed my father!” but finally puts that idea
away, Hampton’s report of the Rock Springs fight
showing there was no need of murder to produce death
in that dread affair.
Forcing herself to calmness, the young lady goes
downstairs and soon discovers things that add to her
suspicion. To her relief, her father and Moncton have
been long away on the business of getting the big bands
of horses driven in from the prairie and the proper
nags selected for delivery to the impatient Ranger
Colonel.
Miss Godfrey is waited on at breakfast by the octo-
roon. Toward the end of the meal, chancing to men-
tion the loss of her picture rather nonchalantly, as if it
were but a matter of passing moment, Estrella is aston-
ished to see her maid’s eyes grow apologetic and her
manner greatly confused. “Come with me to my room,
Zelnia,” the mistress says, assuming indifference as she
places her coffee cup on the table, “and let us see if we
cannot find that portrait together. It' possibly dropped
out of the locket before I left for San Antonio.”
As they go upstairs her attendant gives Miss God-
frey a shock ; she says, with equal carelessness : “What
makes you and your father both so brisk about that
picture ?”
Estrella for the moment is too startled to reply to
this ; but in her room her suspicions become more vivid
as she notes that her maid’s examination of her cham-
ber is entirely perfunctory. Inspiration smiting the
2i8
THE SPY COMPANY.
mistress, she suddenly cries : “Zelma, you know where
that miniature is
“Miss ’Strella, what — what makes you think that?”
stammers the octoroon.
“Why, because you’re not looking for it. If you’ve
carelessly lost this portrait from the locket, confess it
to me and I promise pardon.”
But the girl, who is trembling now, not answering
her, the mistress cannot help imploring: “It — it is a
picture of my mother’s brother. I don’t want to lose
it. Tell me about it. Have I not always been good
to you, Zelma?” and so finally works upon the feel-
ings of her attendant that she sobs miserably : “Don’t
ask me. Miss ’Strella; don’t ask me! If I told you I’d
be skinned alive I”
“Ah, no doubt you would!” assents Estrella. She
is now sure that her maid either took the portrait
by Godfrey’s orders or had seen him purloin it
and been warned to keep a silent tongue. She breaks
out in anger, half simulated, half real : “You care-
lessly have lost it. That’s the reason you dare not open
your lips to me. But I shan’t tell my father about it
because he’d punish you terribly. Though I shall pun-
ish you myself.” She takes the young woman to the
sewing room, gives her a big lot of sewing, and com-
mands : “Don’t dare to stir from here until this is
finished !” but to make very sure, locks the culprit in.
Coming out of the room, she thinks : “Alone for
hours!” With the exception of old Dinah, the cook,
she and Zelma are the only inmates of the house. Di-
nah never leaves the kitchen; it is quite certain that
Moncton and Godfrey will not return till evening from
the corrals. She thinks desperately : “I’ll search his
room and get that picture.”
Whereupon, safe from Zelma’s eyes, she goes cau-
tiously into what she had once called her father’s bed-
THE SPY COMPANY.
219
room and investigates his wardrobe and his desk.
This is a simple matter. The frontier planter’s clothes
are few, and his plain deal desk has but a country lock,
the key of which is in it.
Carefully examining the pockets of his clothes, she
finds nothing of importance in these ; next she inspects
the papers in his desk, which are not very numerous,
most of his business documents being at the house he
calls his office, but does not find the portrait. Though
looking over the last package of papers, tucked away
in an envelope, something meets her eyes that makes
Estrella utter a shriek of rage. It is the letter she had
written to Hampton.
This increases her determination to discover whether
this man, who has assumed a father’s authority over
her, is really entitled to her love, duty and obedience.
She must know that ; she will know that ! She mur-
murs to herself : “Oh, God, I loved him so !” But
the letter in her hand makes her add bitterly: “He
wasn’t very merciful to me.” Thinking of the picture,
she cries to herself : “The face smiled at me from the
past ! ’Twas a recollection of childhood. I can see
the dear eyes now. I will see again that picture!”
Yet search how she will, and she seeks it in careless,
reckless eagerness, she cannot find the miniature.
Finally, concluding that the portrait must have been
destroyed, she desperately determines : ■ “There is one
living witness who can say from his own eyes : This
Jim Godfrey was Jim Godfrey before the fight at Rock
Springs, and is — your father!’ I’ll send for Harry
Love and bring them face to face !”
She writes a hurried note, orders her mare saddled,
and rides off to the cabin of a hunter a little way up
the San Antonio trail, where for a few dollars she
knows she can get a Mexican to speed with the mes-
sage that very day into the Pueblo town. She is alto-
220
THE SPY COMPANY.
i^ether too experienced now to trust the letter to an
ox team.
But even in the act of dismounting at the hunter’s
cabin a sharp-eyed, brown-skinned muchacho comes
spurring down the San Antonio trail, and, putting
his cunning glance on her, promptly pulls up his mus-
tang and, edging alongside of her, whispers : “Pron-
to, dqui Dona Yankee T and passes to her astonished
but eager hand a thumb-worn and dirty slip of paper.
For a second she thinks it is some message from
Hampton, but starts as she deciphers in half-printed,
illiterate script :
“IVe dropt on what nocked yer sensus out of ye. Yer
guessed it ! Down ter night with ividence. Until then keep
mum as ye love yer life.
“Kute Harry/"
As its full import smites her, the delicate girl almost
falls from her horse. Her mighty suspicion has be-
come a crushing and appalling certainty. She reels in
her saddle, and mutters to herself : “Orphaned !”
CHAPTER XVI.
NIGHT ON THE LONE PLANTATION.
Before Estrella can collect her senses, the Mexican
boy, apparently instructed, with a whispered “GuardaD
has ridden off. For a moment she is carried back into
the past and sees the dying man by the desert spring,
and her brown eyes grow full of tears at thought of
her dead father.
Then her cruel situation forces the present on her.
She had given this man called Godfrey a daughter’s
tender affection and loving kisses, and she feels a big
THE SPY COMPANY.
221
hole is in her heart. Fortunately, Harry’s missive
eradicates a good deal of this sentiment.
As she re-reads Love’s scrawl the letters that are dim
to her teary eyes grow very big in awful warning.
“Keep mum as ye love yer life!” Until this time per-
sonal danger had not been in the girl’s mind, but now
it looms up and confronts her. She looks on the great
estate this man has usurped from her, and thinks in
quick discernment : “After he has slaved for it these
many years, this man will do anything to keep it. That
is why he wanted me to marry Moncton ; then he’d be
safe from me.” Pondering over the matter, she makes
a wild guess that Jasper had discovered her putative
father’s secret, and so had gained sufficient power over
him to force him to divide the spoils. “This man had
to take me as his daughter to be Jim Godfrey and have
title to my dead father’s gold that he dug up from the
ruined hacienda, and these miles and miles of land fer-
tile as God’s gardens,” she mutters; then jeers bitterly ;
“And now he would make me the bride of his accom-
plice, and so render me forever helpless and seal my
lips eternally by wifely pride and wifely duty.”
She gazes at the herds of cattle and bands of horses
and gangs of toiling negroes, and utters, significantly :
“It is a principality worth fighting for. For all this is
mine and” — the sweet accents of devoted love com-
ing into her voice — “and Sharpe’s !”
From this reverie she is startled by a voice at her
side. The man whom she had called father, riding up
to her, says, authoritatively: “Daughter, I saw you
from the field. You got a note from that Mexican
boy.” Her agitated face answers him ; he commands :
“Let me see it !”
But under an instinctive touch of the spur the agile
Mulefoot bounds away, and before Estrella is overtaken
by her surprised mentor she has wrapped the paper up
222
THE SPY COMPANY.
with three lucifer matches, that after the manner of
the prairie she carries with her, and has ignited them
on the pommel of her saddle. With her pursuer’s
hand upon her arm, she laughs as the tinder floats away
from her on the breeze, and feels for the moment that
she is safe.
Fortunately, Godfrey takes for granted from whom
the note has been received, and commands tersely :
‘‘You come right home with me!”
Resistance would be useless, even if she cared just
now to defy him. Miss Godfrey turns Mulefoot and
rides doggedly beside him, and so enters the big
patio, where, slipping from the side saddle, she stands
upon the threshold of the house confronting him.
Godfrey doesn’t get off his horse or the crisis might
have come immediately. Still mounted, looking down
at the girl as she makes a beautiful picture in her riding
habit, her face flushed, her eyes rebellious, he says,
sternly : “Ever since last night, daughter. I’ve noticed
you’ve acted kind of queer then questions sharply :
“You have met against my orders Captain Hampton in
San Antonio?”
She turns her face haughtily to his and answers
shortly: “Yes.”
“Very well. You remember I told you Fd punish
you if you ever had anything more to do with him.
If you have lost your pride, by the Eternal, I haven’t
lost my pride as your father !”
Despite herself, the young lady cannot restrain a
mocking, sneering laugh. It doesn’t make her mentor
more tender to her. He continues : “Now you go
right up to your room and stay there till I let you leave
it. I’m too busy now, but to-morrow, unless you do
what I tell you, I’ll tend to you frontier fashion.”
But yesterday the girl would have been grieved at his
condemnation and grown tearful at his reproof. Now
NIGHT ON THE LONE PLANTATION
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THE SPY COMPANY.
223
his threat eradicates her last tender feeling for him;
with every vein in her body throbbing with indigna-
tion at his assumed parental authority, she bites her
lips to restrain the angry, defiant words.
A moment after she answers haughtily, yet resigned-
ly : “Yes, sir !“ and goes up to her chamber quite con-
tent to get from his company, for she sees enough in
his face to make it certain that a rash word might now
put great danger upon her. Recollecting that to-night
she will have Wild Harry’s evidence to make her defy
any interference by this man with her coming marriage,
she laughs to herself savagely : “It is he who shall
beg my mercy; not I, his!” and strides her room like
an indignant Juno.
Soon tenderer and happier thoughts possess her.
She remembers that this evening she will have at her
side a man capable of protecting her from everything
save the violence of her own love, and reflecting that
in two days she is to be a bride, occupies herself pleas-
antly by packing a trunk for a simple honeymoon out-
ing.
During this, towards evening, she is somewhat star-
tled by hearing the man called Godfrey crying out from
his bedroom, rather nervously and astoundedly :
per, the devil’s up ! Someone’s been searching all my
things 1” His hurried steps tell of agitation as he runs
down the stairs apparently to seek conference with his
coadjutor.
A little later, probably urged by Moncton, who
wishes to see the woman whose beauty grows to him
more tempting with her coldness, Godfrey sends Zel-
ma to the young lady’s chamber and desires she shall
be at the supper table. “And master told me,” pleads
the maid, anxiously, “to make you look your best. Miss
’Strella.”
“Make me look my best ! Well, I should think so!”
224
THE SPY COMPANY.
cries Estrella. And, remembering she is being decked
to meet her affianced husband, she selects for this sum-
mer evening an exquisite light frock of pure white mus-
lin trimmed with simple ribbons.
Filled with sweetheart’s bashful thoughts, under the
octoroon’s anxious attentions, the tears, and she has
shed many of them this day, are washed from her
cheeks, and she soon becomes as fresh and dainty as
a rosebud. On her face is expectant happiness and
hope as she sweeps down to astonish with her beauty
the two men waiting for her below, and take her place
at what she had once been very happy to call her
father’s table.
Then a curious, nervous meal goes on.
Though the conversation of Moncton and Godfrey
is chiefly over coming crops and the horses they have
sent off to San Antonio for the Ranger Colonel, there
is a current of uneasiness apparent in their voices, and
Estrella starts as she notes in the faces of these men
some project not as yet developed. This nervous tension
quickly affects the octoroon, who, dressed like a prim
French maid, is waiting on them. Zelma’s pearl-like
complexion becomes pale as delicate china, and her
plump white arms bared to the elbows for table at-
tendance quiver as she arranges the dessert ; for God-
frey, after remarking that some one has been sneak-
ing about his bedroom, suddenly asks the attendant in
terrible voice : “Wench, have you been rummaging
my desk trying to find something to steal?” next
chuckles: “By jinks, you look guilty; your legs are
shaking under you as if you had the fever and ague!”
the short skirt of the young woman making this easily
apparent.
With her tongue almost cleaving to the roof of
her mouth, Zelma answers in low, broken voice : “No,
Mr. Godfrey, as God is my judge !’^
THE SPY COMPANY.
225
“Reckon you’ll find I’m the only judge about here!”
jeers the old man, blasphemously. Apparently he has
been bracing his nerves for some active measure by
afternoon libations.
But the attentions of Jasper Moncton, who, towards
the close of the meal has drawn his chair quite close
to Miss Godfrey’s, the confident smile upon his suave
face and the possessive manner in which he would put
his arm around her tempting waist, though she repels
him both with eyes and hands, do not permit Estrella
to think very much about this matter. Her diffidence
and coyness now seemingly annoy the man who calls
himself her father. In his eye comes a determination to
force this fragile beauty, who had once been so pliable
in her daughterly love, to do his will.
As he smokes he speaks, saying rather nervously
between puffs of his cigar : “Jasper has been begging
you off again, ’Strella ; I have concluded to forget your
disobedience if you do my bidding, daughter.”
“And what is that ?” asks the young lady, struggling
to control her temper.
“Why, you just agree to marry Jasper, as you know
are my wishes, and I’ll excuse you just this once for
running after that Ranger Captain.”
“That I shall never do I” answers Estrella, and, rising
haughtily, sweeps out of the room and goes to her
chamber, because she is afraid of letting her tongue
disclose too much.
Here she thinks pertinently : “An hour or two more
and Hampton will come, and then — ^then I’ll speak I”
But this inaction is not to be permitted to her. A
few minutes after Zelma comes trembling into her
chamber and shudders : “Eor God’s sake. Miss ’Strel-
la, protect me. You said you would — when I came
here and gave up my liberty to be with you, you said
you would.”
226
THE SPY COMPANY.
“What do you mean ?”
“Oh, this. They’re accusing me of breaking open
and searching master’s desk to find something to steal.
God help me, they’ve — they’ve been drinking!” and
even in the gloom the octoroon’s eyes flash -wild with
terror. “They have told me that — that I am to go
down to master’s office to be whipped. Miss ’Strella,
think of that — whipped because I’ve been rummaging
master’s desk trying to find something to steal I”
“That you shall never be I” Miss Godfrey’s voice is
cold, though her heart is throbbing as if it would break
through the corsage that confines it. She knows now
that to save the unfortunate Zelma she must tell of in-
vestigating Godfrey’s desk. To give the real reason
for her act, instinct warns her may put danger even
on her life. She tries to invent some other plausible
excuse or motive to render to this man, muttering ner-
vously to herself: “If Hampton would but come!”
But she must act quickly ! Godfrey has called from
below: “Come along, you thieving wench; I’ll teach
you to sneak about my papers !” and Zelma has trem-
blingly run down to him. Some remarks about “go-
ing light on the girl and not spoiling her beauty for the
New Orleans market” float up the stairway, to horrify
Miss Godfrey.
As the sobs of the victim die away the mistress cries
mentally : “Zelma shall not be punished for my act !”
Taking a piece of paper, she hastily writes on it :
“Find me at the office.” With this in her hand she
runs downstairs and leaves it on the dining-room table
for Hampton’s eye in case he should come during her
absence.
Then, reckless of everything but her errand of mercy,
Miss Godfrey issues from the house and follows the
two men, who have already led their victim out of the
big patio and are well on their way down the road to
THE SPY COMPANY.
227
Godfrey’s office. She has forgotten coming sweet-
heart; obliterated from mind is Harry’s promised evi-
dence ; likewise is even banished the danger that she
may bring upon herself, if by any inadvertence she dis-
closes that she knows she is not this man’s daughter,
as picking up her dainty skirts Estrella flits with light
feet through the road made dusty by wagon teams from
Matagorda and stands before the rough one-story
adobe building called Godfrey’s office. She has scarce-
ly ever been in the place, having had a kind of horror
of it, because she knows that sometimes slaves con-
nected with household or stables are punished in its
rear room, the regular whipping post of the plantation
being down among the distant negro quarters.
Its floor being raised but little over the surrounding
prairie, the windows of the building are scarce two
feet above the path outside. The night being warm,
these are wide open, and she glances into the front
room.
At one side of it is a small iron safe for papers con-
nected with the plantation. Several ledgers and a
well-thumbed memorandum book lie on its unplaned
deal table ; from this a couple of candles in tin candle-
sticks emit a subdued, flickering light. Both Godfrey
and Moncton are seated on rough, wooden chairs in
careless poses, the evening being very sultry, smok-
ing their cigars nonchalantly, and comfortably drinking
their whiskey from a bottle and glasses already placed
upon the table.
Estrella shudders as she sees these men coolly taking
their ease, unmindful of the trembling woman, who
apparently is in the rear room preparing for her tor-
ture ; for a subdued sobbing is heard through the slight
partition mingled with the rustle of feminine garments
being hastily removed. Though she is so excited that
the whole scene seems blurred to her, her senses are
228
THE SPY COMPANY.
SO strained she even notes the odor of a honeysuckle
that is climbing about the window and that a swarm of
mosquitoes and insects attracted from the prairie are
burning themselves to death in the flames of the can-
dles on the table.
But, above all, one thing impresses itself upon the
delicate girl, the awful loneliness of the place. The
lights from the negro quarters are very distant. The
nearest cabin of a frontiersman or hunter is a mile
away. Only the gloom of a summer night is near to
her. She shudders as she thinks : “What aid is there
for me from any one here against the acknowledged
autocrat of this lone plantation and his overseer?”
Love’s warning grows very vivid in her mind as to
her ears come these significant words in Moncton’s
acute voice : “Did you notice, Jim, that ’Strella has
never once called you dad since we came from San
Antonio ?”
“Yes, and by the Lord Harry I’m going to find out
what she means by it !” snarls Godfrey.
Here the sight of a long, lithe, torturing rawhide
switch lying on the table makes Estrella desperately
lay her hand upon the latch.
As the girl comes in, it is as if a fairy were entering
the den of ogres, for the whole place smells of liquor
and has that rough, unkempt, bald appearance common
to the frontier far from the refining touch of woman.
As they see her the triumph upon both men’s faces
tells their visitor that her coming is what they want;
though the man whom she once called father, hastily
rising, asks: “Daughter, what’s your business here?”
“To protect the girl I brought with me from New
York,” she answers, determinedly. “You shall not
punish Zelma!”
“Reckon a little’ll do her good,” says Godfrey. “She
deserves it. The wench has been rummaging about
THE SPY COMPANY.
229
my desk trying to find something to steal ; unless/’ he
adds, significantly, “some one else did it.”
This increases Estrella’s perturbation. She guesses
that they suspect she has been investigating Godfrey’s
desk, and have lured her here on this errand of mercy
to coerce her by her sympathy with the unfortunate
octoroon into confessing her act and telling her reason
for it.
With a shudder she remembers Harry’s warning:
“As ye love yer life keep mum !” and, loving life very
much now, as coming brides do, for one coward mo-
ment she hesitates.
But Godfrey’s action forces her to generous reso-
lution. Picking up the torturing switch of twisted
rawhide, he calls, savagely : “Wench, are you ready
in there ?” and a scream has answered through the par-
tition : “Master, for God’s sake, spare me !”
He is stepping to the door, but Miss Godfrey is in
front of him. To him she says, holding up a white
hand in commanding gesture : “You shall not torture
Zelma! It was I who investigated your desk!”
At this Moncton springs up with a muttered execra-
tion, and the faces of both men tell Estrella that they
fear she guesses some secret they will protect with
their lives or — with her life. But it only braces her
nerves and makes her throbbing brain more acute.
“You were going through my desk,” mutters God-
frey, hoarsely, “to find what?” Though he tries to
conceal it, his face is convulsed with both terror and
menace.
Moncton himself has come a little closer to her, his
features full of awful inquiry.
“To find what?” repeats the man she had once
thought her father.
“This!” cries the girl in sudden inspiration, and,
plunging her hand through the laces of her corsage,
230
THE SPY COMPANY.
she draws from her throbbing bosom the note she had
found. “This, my letter that you intercepted ; my mis-
sive to Captain Hampton
At her words immense relief ripples the faces of both
her inquisitors.
“Oh, Hampton, the Comanche killer !” sneers Monc-
ton, his attitude growing more easy, though his face is
flushed with jealous rage.
“Of course I did,” says Godfrey in fatherly tones.
“It was my duty to keep you from making a lovesick
fool of yourself, daughter.” He gives a sigh of relief,
sits down in a chair and relights his cigar.
Perhaps the awful denouement that is drawing
about them might be averted, for Estrella has called
into the door of the rear room : “Zelma, you’re saved.
Go back to the house, poor g^rl !” and is herself step-
ping to the entrance of the building, anxious to get
away from the two men whom she now loathes; but
at this moment Moncton, made fervid by the ethereal
beauty of this priestess of mercy, who looks in her
simple muslin frock exquisite as a sylph, bars her
way, and says, insinuatingly : “You’ve begged
the wench off from your father. Now you’ll have to
beg her off from me. You see there was a fellow
named Him Jones came up to Matagorda from Corpus
Christi, and he didn’t know I was boss of this estate,
and got to laughing and chatting in a barroom about
your octoroon beauty who was going to gallivant with
Mr. Yazoo Sam. You see, in old times I knew Yazoo
Sam very well, and he was great at running off nig-
gers. We ” Jasper checks himself and continues
smilingly : “But perhaps you didn’t notice your
wench’s didos. Reckon you were too much taken up
with that dragoon fellow, young Pelham, I believe his
name was. Him Jones was talking about him, too,”
and, getting closer to the lovely object of his passion,
THE SPY COMPANY.
231
whispers : “You can save the wench by a single kiss.
You know how I have loved you since I saw you at
Saratoga. Why don’t you marry me and make every-
thing quiet and settled on the plantation ?”
“Yes, that’s the ticket,” breaks in Godfrey. “Marry
Jasper. You know he’s the man I want you to take.
Don’t keep on your high horse!”
To this Miss Godfrey, lighting to restrain words that
may bring discovery upon her, says, coldly: “I have
already answered no to that question.”
“Oh, you won’t give me a kiss? Very well,” laughs
Moncton. “Then Zelma shall sing a little song to Mr.
Yazoo Sam !” and would step towards the inner room.
But Miss Godfrey stands before him and commands :
“I forbid you to lay a hand upon my property I”
''Your property! That’s good!” jeers Jasper, arro-
gantly. “Reckon you don’t exactly understand your
position here !”
At this Godfrey falters : “Don’t rile him, daughter,
or he’ll turn us out paupers on the prairie. Marry
him to save your poor old father. Don’t you know
he’s got a bill of sale of everything on the plantation ?
Don’t put on city airs, child, you’re only the daughter
of a plain backwoodsman, anyway!”
But this man’s continually calling himself her father
drives the girl frantic. Forgetting prudence, she cries,
mockingly: “A bill of sale of my plantation from
you? Pish, it’s not worth the paper it’s written on!”
“What do you mean ?” This in a whisper from both
men.
“I mean that you are not Jim Godfrey, that you are
not my father!” And the daughter of a plain back-
woodsman becomes haughty as a Juno, the lights of the
candles flash on her white arms and panting bosom,
the thought that she had given this wretch a daugh-
ter’s kisses, a daughter’s love, makes her toss prudence
232
THE SFY COMPANY.
to the winds and break out: '‘Interloper! Liar!
Usurper! My father died at the Rock Springs fight
ten years ago! Now both you and your accomplice
off this plantation, that is mine !”
Even as this leaves her lips she remembers Love’s
warning, and would check her words, but the actions
of the men before her tell her it is too late. For God-
frey has muttered with an awful curse : “By Heaven,
she knows!” and Moncton has locked the door lead-
ing to the outer world.
She is alone with two monsters, who shock her by
holding whispered consultation, all the time keeping
their eyes upon her as if they were beasts of prey and
she was to be their victim. She hears one mutter:
“You fool, to make me bring her from New York!”
and the other answer: “By Heaven, I’ll have her,
anyway!” From very force of habit Estrella’s hands-
go to the silken sash that girds her- slight waist seeking
for the Ranger’s pistols, but with a sigh she remem-
bers she has left the weapons in her chamber.
Then the two men come to her and smite her
with a monstrous proposition. “Now, Jim, to save her
life she must marry me right off !” says Moncton,
shortly.
“Yes, marriage with you is the only thing that will
stop hei lips sure,” mutters Godfrey; adding, in cruel
significance: “except the other thing.”
Here the girl in her terror, for she sees they mean
by “the other thing” her death, makes a false step.
Hoping to frighten them, she says, haughtily : “That’s
impossible ! To-morrow I marry Sharpe Hampton !”
At this the two men look at each other wildly. They
know that if she has promised herself to Hampton
neither man nor devil will keep the Ranger from com-
ing bride. Driven desperate, Godfrey remarks, husk-
ily: “So much the more reason you marry Jasper
nowT
THE SPY COMPANY.
233
“Yes, mating with me is the trick that will stop her
gabbing !“ cries Moncton, adding, with saturnine acute-
ness, “and stop Sharpe Hampton, too!”
“Stop Sharpe Hampton from making me his wife
when he loves me?” jeers Estrella. “Stop him when
he says I am his sun in heaven? Stop him ”
But Moncton’s crafty rejoinder paralyzes her white
lips. '‘You can stop him mighty quick!” he says,
suavely. “When, you’re bone of my bone and flesh of
my flesh, the Ranger Captain’s too high-stomached a
fellow to take such a jilting. He’ll keep away from
you as if you were poison and ask no questions.” To
this he adds in words that seem like blows upon the
threatened one’s heart : “You have got to marry me
or be buried before morning !”
“Don’t you see, fool, that it is the only thing that
can save your life ?” whispers the man called Godfrey.
“We daren’t let you live. Do you suppose that I’m
going to be thrown out of wealth and possessions that
have grown in my hands all these years and be twisted
from a nabob into an outcast pauper in a second ?”
“I’ll — I’ll deed you my property !” screams the fright-
ened girl, “only let me go !”
“Shucks, a deed under these circumstances wouldn’t
be worth a cent!” says Moncton. “Besides, I want
you! I haven’t dreamt of your loveliness and hun-
gered for your caresses these two years to give ’em
up now ! You’ve got to give in, my beauty, and be-
come my wife right off !”
Then the room grows red with horror to the victim’s
eyes as Godfrey says, huskily, as if ashamed of his
own words: “There’s a nigger parson down at the
quarters can do the business good enough in five min-
utes. Your being Jasper’s flesh and blood will keep
your lips shut forever. You have got to be Jasper’s
right now or die right here!”
234
THE SPY COMPANY.
For a second the horror of her position is hardly
real to the half fainting girl, but the proposed bride-
groom’s eyes lighting up in unholy rapture at the
loveliness he thinks already in his arms, makes Estrella
a goddess of purity assailed by shame.
Her face, cheeks and bosom grow red as fire, then
pale as the death that she elects. She says simply :
“You can kill me, but I live Sharpe Hampton’s !” next
raises her voice and cries desperately: “Help!
Hampton, help ! I need you I”
“Quit screaming or we’ve got to kill you !” mutters
Godfrey. Already he has one hand upon her white
throat and seems to be raising the other to strike her
senseless.
Again the sweet young voice rings through the still
night air : “Hampton ! Sharpe ! Save me !”
Then, even as her senses become dull and the scene
sways mistily before her eyes, the angel of death de-
scends and protects this maiden from two satyrs.
On the trail outside two sharp revolver cracks ring
out so rapidly they make almost one report. The man
who had called himself Miss Godfrey’s father falls
upon the swooning girl, and the other, his accomplice,
is a dead body ere he reaches the bloody floor.
>lt j1« Jk * 5}: * *
A few minutes later Estrella finds herself lying
in a chair, her face wet and herself being brought to
her senses by kindly slappings of her hands and shoul-
ders. She says, dreamily, though there is a strange
interrogation in her voice : “Did you put me in this
chair ?”
“No, I found ye there,” answers Mr. Love, aston-
ished admiration making his wild eyes very big.
But she, staring about and seeing blood upon her
dress and the bodies lying on the floor, springs up and
shudders : “Who killed these men ?”
THE SPY COMPANY.
235
“Shucks, don’t git frightened, girl, after ye’ve fit
the scrimmage,” says Wild Harry, reassuringly. “Yer
did it fine. That feller over there was plugged straight
between the eyes,” he points to Moncton, “and this
cadoodler ain’t got many breaths in his body.” He
indicates her putative father. “Don’t take on so; they
desarved it. Reckon ‘dad’ got onto yer knowing he
wasn’t ‘dad’ a leetle before I got down, and then yer
gave it to ’em straight. Hampton taught yer to shoot
the pistol, didn’t he? I’d have done it myself if I’d
have been here.”
At this Estrella asks in astounded voice : “And you
didn’t shoot them ?”
“No such luck,” answers Love ; then mutters :
“What do yer want to possum it on me fer? Ye must
have shot ’em ! But I’ll make everything safe for ye.
A coroner’s jury’ll soon bring in a verdict of ‘served
’em right’ when I’m yer witness.”
These last words are interrupted by a moaning plea
for water from the man called Godfrey.
Estrella cannot forget that she once held daughter’s
love for this man, and her quick hands pour the liquid
between his ashen lips and try to soothe the passing
of his spirit.
On this Love breaks in, saying, sternly : “Roger
Norton, the best thing you can do with your last few
breathin’s is to square yourself by telling all about it.”
“Roger Norton! Is that your name?” cries ’Strella,
and looks curiously at the dying man.
“I recognized ye as soon as I put eyes on ye, Roger
Norton,” says Wild Harry, “Ye were her dad’s clerk
who went up with him on his hunt for the Gran Que-
vira, and thus escaped massacre down here. Ye
thought ye’d take Jim Godfrey’s place, seein’ every one
was dead, and so to seize on the plantation ye lassed
the daughter. That’s about straight, isn’t it?”
236
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Yes,” gasps the man, “there — there isn’t much to
tell.”
“But still,” commands Love, “ye put it down on
paper, Strella; writin’ always makes things easy.”
And the girl, sitting at the deal table, inscribes hur-
riedly the tale the wounded man in low voice gasps
out :
“I — I saw a big chance with everybody dead who
knew Godfrey in these parts, and I — I took it. I be-
came Jim Godfrey. ’Twasn’t so hard for six years.
No one ever came round this place but new emigrants,
new niggers and Indians and Mexicanos. I — I meant
to do the right thing by you, and would have left you
the property till that devil, Jasper Carew Moncton,
came along. He had not known Godfrey, but he
thought he recollected me in old Mississippi days. He
suspected me. Somehow he was aware Jim Godfrey
was a Knight of the Golden Circle. He gave me the
grips and signals of the secret order. I could not re-
turn them. So he finally made sure that I was not Jim
Godfrey, but Roger Norton that he had once seen as
purser’s clerk on the Mississippi River. Then he — he
worked on my fears and got a hold on me, and — and
then, when he’d gone up North and seen you, ’Strella,
he got wild for you and would have me bring you down
so that he could, if necessary, force you to be his, and
— and you know the rest. I meant to be pretty good
to you, and I hope you’ll forgive me as — as far as you
can.” The poor creature, sighing his life out, looks
pleadingly at her.
But the girl suddenly asks: “Tell me, who killed
vou ?”
“I— I don’t know.”
Then she, bringing the paper to him, half sobs, half
gasps; “Sign this, and I’ll forgive you,” and the
frontiersman, lifting the expiring wretch higher, he
THE SPY COMPANY.
m
succeeds in putting his name beneath his dying revela-
tion ; then his head drops, as he falls forward on the
floor.
“And now,” says Estrella, eagerly, “please let me
write that you were killed while making an attack upon
me, that ” She pauses. The eyes of the man who
had called himself Godfrey are closed, his breath has
gone.
“What’s all this strange palaver about?” mutters
Love. “Nobody’s going to hurt ye for killing them
skunks !”
“No, but I didn’t kill them.”
“Well, who did? It warn’t me, though I’d been
proud to do it.”
“I — I think it was Sharpe,” whispers the girl, ner-
vously.
“ ’Tain’t possible!” cries Love, indignantly, “or this
fellow Moncton would have been dead as quick as the
other. Sharpe Hampton don’t shoot twice at a man.”
“But I might have been in the way. I stood so ”
“Yes — reckon he’d have to shoot a leetle high to
avoid ye. Perhaps it was Sharpe Hampton.”
“But Zelma can tell!” And Estrella runs into the
next room. Putting her hand on the shoulder of the
shrinking octoroon. Miss Godfrey asks : “Zelma, who
fired those shots?”
“I don’t know, miss; I don’t know,” mumbles the
poor cringing creature who is still half nude in prepa-
ration for her chastisement. “I was waiting here when
I heard their awful words to you, then the reports.
Next I heard some one in that room kissing you and,
seems to me, I distinguished : ‘For God’s sake, I
didn’t mean to kill your father!’ But those fearful
men are dead, and I’m only your slave — ain’t I, Miss
Strella, only your slave?”
This her mistress does not answer. She has run
238
THE SPY COMPANY.
out into the other room, where Harry is calling:
“Look here ! Here’s a piece of paper kept in place by
a bowie knife stuck in it, and we never see’d it. We’d
make fine spies, we would !”
Upon it has been agitatedly scrawled : “Good-bye.
Forgive me.”
“That’s Sharpe’s writin’, straight enough!” mutters
Wild Harry, “but I never knew his hand could trem-
ble before.”
“It is my first, my last love letter!” screams Estrella,
and seizes it, kisses it and fondles it.
Then Harry mutters : “Wall, I’m darned if this
don’t beat conniption fits !”
For the girl is crying to him : “Get on your horse!
After him ! Sharpe Hampton thinks he’s killed my
father, and that this wretch’s blood stands between his
love and me. After him ! Bring him back to me ! I
promised to marry him to-morrow. After him ! Find
him before he gets down on the Rio Grande and throws
his life away in some wild skirmish because he thinks
he’s killed my father and can never call me wife!
After him, and bring him back!”
BOOK V.
Beyond the Rio Grande.
CHAPTER XVII.
FLORITO'S FANDANGO.
It is a hot, sultry summer night well south of the
Rio Grande, on the most southern of all roads leading
from Camargo, first over low cactus-covered chaparral
plains called the Tierra Caliente, then through the
foothills of the Cordilleras to Monterey and Saltillo.
This road, passing by the little adobe town of China,
avoided by the main divisions of Taylor’s Army, has
not been cut up by trains of wagons transporting
provisions and camp equipage or guns of the artillery,
though it has been scouted over and ridden over by
Texan Rangers and Dragoons, who have cleared it of
the Rancheros and the regular Mexican cavalry of
General Ampudia, who holds in force the« town and
citadel of Monterey.
Upon this road, grown dusty under the hoofs of cav-
alry, stands a little hamlet near the first foothills of the
mountains, pleasantly shaded by some palmettos, palms
and century plants that indicate it is still near the
Tierra Caliente, though it is watered by a stream
whose swiftly flowing, cool water as it hurries to join
the San Juan River shows that it rises in the heights
of the Sierra Madre.
Within this hamlet this sultry night, though the
(239)
^40
THE SPY COMPANY.
breeze from the mountain tempers it, for the benefit
and amusement of the ferocious Yankee voluntarios
is being given a fandango. The Mexican mosos and
leperos, cringingly doffing their sombreros, have gath-
ered in the prettiest p obi anas and manolas of the town,
though they grind their yellow teeth and snarl-
ingly feel their machetes when out of immediate ob-
servation. For the bright eyes of the senoritas flash
alluringly to the wooing of these Yankee desperadoes,
who are very ardent in their “lovings” to Juanita, In-
ezita or Lolita, now that Sally, Molly and Annie are
“to hum” in far-away Kentucky or Tennessee, and
who practise the good old-fashioned soldier routine :
“If you cannot make love to the lips that are dear,
At least you can kiss the lips that are near.”
Under live oaks lighted by torches, the salle de danse
being a smooth, well-beaten circle of earth surrounded
by tables for gaming and likewise the sale of tortillas,
frijoles, dtdces and aguardiente, pulque, and other
liquids of the country, a merry crowd of Texan
Rangers and Uncle Sam’s troopers are engaged in lov-
ing, polkaing, smoking, drinking and gambling. These
are interspersed with Mexicans who smile between their
snarls, and senoritas whose white chemises scarcely veil
their charms of busts and shoulders, and whose short,
bright-colored petticoats do not entirely conceal their
graceful legs and ankles. Under the feet of everybody
roam a drove of hairless Mexican dogs, struggling to
get a snap at tortillas and frijoles, yet snarling, yelp-
ing and howling under the kicks from the big boots
of Rangers and troopers.
In addition, a banner announces “Florito’s Troupe
of Artists from the Nuave de Teatro, City of Mex-
ico.” These add to the entertainment a one-legged
clown, whose performance of a maimed athlete seems
to amuse the careless crowd, and a boy whose hand-
fHfi SPY company.
241
springs and flip-flaps are more those of an orang-
outang than a human being.
But after a little the stellar artiste of the com-
pany, coming out with languishing eyes and coquettish
songs, sends the concourse wild with the ever popular
“La Ponchada/' Then changing from song to dance,
she is greeted by some wild ''Vayas!” and ''Buenos!”
from the Mexicans, and cries of “Keep it up !” “Go it
heel and toe!’' and “Fling yer shanks lively!” from
los Yankees.
These are acknowledged by “Bully for Uncle Sam’s
voluntarios !” from the archly naive figurante, who with
flashing eyes, flowing hair and waving of rebozo,
throws her agile limbs very gracefully to the music of
guitar and mandolin, clanking her castanets in cachucha
and tapping her tambourine in bolero.
But her cachucha and bolero being finished, the
sylph goes about laughing and chatting and even drink-
ing glasses of wine with the assemblage, holding out
tambourine for reward, though her attentions are
chiefly directed to the boys of Uncle Sam; to whom,
being more liberal than her compatriots, she says,
archly: "Pesos por me! Nothing less than a dollar
goes! Sabe! Big silver dollars! Ah, you handsome
Gringos diablosT
Coming out of the crowd with her tambourine packed
full of money and jingling it merrily about, under a
torch-lighted oak, she pauses, starts as if a snake had
stung her pretty bare legs, and mutters : “Caramba,
you here !” and faces the drooping and beautiful figure
and sad, earnest face of Estrella Godfrey.
“I have been watching for you,” says the American
girl, and would put gold into the dancing girl’s tam-
bourine, remarking, eagerly : “Carmelita, you remem-
ber how you saved him and me on the prairie. Have
you seen him?”
242
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Him? Caspita, you mean the gallant Captain!”
cries the dancing girl; then shudders: “From you;
never!” With a shame-faced gesture she rejects
haughtily the proffered guerdon.
But a lithe little Mexican, just behind her, cries:
“Caramha, jealous idiot, you refuse gold!” and seizes
the half-eagle from Miss Godfrey’s fingers. “Florito
is not so dainty !” then snarls : “Demonios, you’re
dropping all the money out of the tambourine !” With
this her patron takes the instrument from the listless
fingers of his subject, who is staring agitatedly at Miss
Godfrey.
Then takes place a curious, half-incoherent interview
broken in upon and interspersed with the chinking
of money and the cries of gamblers from the neighbor-
ing tables and the thumbing of mandolins, guitars and
the shrieking of a fiddle from the Mexican musicians ;
the two girls making exquisite contrast in the torch-
light that is now mellowed by the moon rising over
the spurs of the Sierra Madre. Carmelita, in snowy
chemisette and red-tinted skirt carelessly worn Mex-
ican fashion in half-savage nudity, is a picture of bar-
baric passion; Estrella Godfrey, clothed for her jour-
ney in the saddle over Mexican trails in the Indian
costume she had worn on the prairie, might be bar-
barous also, such are her flashing eyes and agitated
gestures, did not a pathetic sadness dominate and make
soft her wildest emotions.
“You have been riding? You have got that wild-
eyed Ranger Harry with you!” whispers Carmelita.
“I saw you come in this evening escorted by that troop
of Yankee cavalry. As I thought, you seek il Capitan
Hampton” Then her eyes blaze and she mutters:
“But you. Dona Americana, shall not find him — not
through Carmelita.”
“I must, or he’ll be dead soon !” sighs Estrella.
THE SPY COMPANY.
243
“They tell me such stories of his careless, reckless ex-
posure in every skirmish and fight he can get into.”
‘‘JesuSf he is brave, isn’t he? Resigned from the
Texan Rangers — Madre de Dios, as if they didn’t get
killed enough — and organized the Spy Company, free
to find death in the Mexican lines, men who don’t want
to come back ; his first lieutenant an English lord who
was shooting buffalo on the plains and learned his
wife had run away with a duke ; his second officer, the
little daredevil they call ‘The Bravo,’ the pet of a
Louisiana plantation until his sweetheart was seduced
by a New York gambler; then he killed the gambler,
and has come down here to get himself killed ; a dear
little boy who smokes cigarettes while bullets fly about
him, and each night dreams of home and mutters:
‘Mother.’ The rest of them, frontiersmen whose wives
and daughters have been carried off by Indians; bor-
derers whose families and sweethearts have been
slaughtered by rancheros ; each a despairing man who
wants to die but sell his life, and all driven to despair
by our sex. Dona Americana.”
At this dread description of her sweetheart’s com-
mand Estrella Godfrey’s eyes grow agonized. She
cries : “You have seen him fight ?”
“Seen him fight?” cries Carmelita. ‘'Diablo, how
these despairing men massacred the lancers of Carrabi-
jol! Ha, ha, ha! It is great to see Sharpe Hampton
fight I”
“It is!” cries Hampton’s fiancee, her eyes lighting
up also.
“Ay di me, and for you, Americana,” sighs the danc-
ing girl. “That is more than he ever did for me ex-
cept when he quirted little Florito, who is counting
and stealing my money, because Florito was going to
beat me.”
“Ah, then in gratitude to him, tell me where I can
244
THE SPY COMPANY.
find him and take despair from him?” pleads Miss
Godfrey. “Otherwise, I — I’ll only see his dead body.
You know these mountains ahead of us. Aid me to
get word to him.”
“Word of what?” Shame flushes the expressive
features of the figurante ; she asks eagerly : “How
many letters have you written?”
“Oh, many,” moans Estrella, “besides verbal mes-
sages by dragoons riding to the front.”
“Caramha, dragoons don’t overtake Sharpe Hamp-
ton!” jeers Carmelita; then breaks forth into a nervous
rhapsody: “The Spy Company! Always in front of
all ! The Spy Company ! Sixty men leave Mata-
moras ; now there are only thirty left. Always in front ;
always seeking death ; blue chip men, who risk their
lives on a revolver shot. Always fighting; always
dying ; crazy men led by a crazy chief !”
“Ah, you have seen him!” whispers Miss Godfrey.
“You know where he is. Take me to him that I may
make him want to live !”
“And you have written how many letters to him to
make him want to live?” asks Carmelita, in nervous
eagerness.
“Ah, yes, from Matamoras five; two from Camar-
go.”
''Diablo, seven!”
“And you’ll take me to him ?”
“How can I ? I am but a girl helpless as you with
fighting men and battling armies. Ask that young dra-
goon army officer, the one by whose side you rode to-
day;” and Carmelita goes, jeeringly, away from the
half-despairing American girl.
But out of sight, concealed from her rival by a cac-
tus hedge, and she gets to counting on her fingers :
“One — two — three — yes. seven. I have them all ! All
that came to the crazy Captain who cares so little for
}iis life he is willing to toss it on the Mexican lances ;
Tin: SPY COMPANY.
245
who some day, diablo, will perhaps get crazy enough
to love me. And yet, when one night as he slept on
the open prairie, I crawled through the grass to him
to put my lips on his, and even in his sleep he turned
away from me and whispered her name: ‘Strella.’
Then I could have driven knife through him or through ■
myself. But better drive it through her now she’s here !
I knew she’d come. Something told me. Come to tell
him she forgives him for something that’s driving him
crazy because he thinks he’s lost her. But I can stop
her — stop her forever ! Why not ? Why did not Dona
Highhorse keep up North, where she ought to be
immodest thing following a man?”
Into her half-crazy rhapsody is now insinuated the
soft, suggestive voice of her patron. Little Florito,
coming beside the dancing girl, whispers: “The
American rica, the daughter of Godfrey, who owns the
enormous flocks and herds and plantations in Texas,
we missed her once. This time we will have her, a
grand ransom. Here, far away in the recesses of the
Sierra Madre, we can make Dona Godfrey so unhappy,
she will be willing to write that they send whole mule-
loads of silver dollars for her rescue. Santos, last time
I think you played us a little false for love of that
Texan Captain. Now ’
”Now,” whispers Carmelita, “now, when she is alone,
no mercy is in my heart !’
“Then come, Til tell you my little plan. Dona Es-
trella is seeking the man she loves. We will aid her,
diablo, we will aid her!”
At this Carmelita bursts into a mocking, jeering
laugh, and follows her patron for true Mexican dagger-
in-the-back plotting.
As for Miss Godfrey, after having turned away
hopeless of any aid from Carmelita, she goes to seek-
ing among the gambling, laughing, dancing throng
246
THE SPY COMPANY.
about the tables the wild-eyed Harry Love. Exclama-
tions that arise over the twanging of the guitars and
mandolins embarrass the young lady.
“Whaugh,” says a Texan Ranger, “draw a bead on
Josefa’s ankles; never saw purtier in old Kaintuck!”
“Come on, boys, lets give the Greasers a Virginny
reel !” cries another, leading out a bright-eyed poblana.
“Don’t show your teeth, my little jealous Tomasito,”
he adds, “or I’ll knock them down yer yaller belly.”
This is addressed to a snarling Mexican who resents
the enlevement of his sweetheart.
As for Mr. Love, he is imbibing aguardiente, and
has hilariously exclaimed : “Golly, ain’t drunk so
much since I war weaned!” Then he laughs to a
little manola of imploring eyes : “No, can’t have all
my monte winnings this trip,” chinking some silver
dollars in his hands, “but I’ll give ye one of these hyar
to flip my heels wid ye,” and would lead the muchacha
to the dance did not at this moment his eyes rest upon
his beautiful charge, who in dejected attitude is look-
ing sadly on. “Here’s yer dollar,” he cries to the
poblana, “go and dance with Tomasito I” and, turning
away, comes to Miss Godfrey, who is at the outskirts
of the crowd.
At the little adobe house where she has taken up her
quarters and been made quite comfortable for a few
silver dollars by the Mexican family that live in it, he
says, in answer to the somewhat reproachful glance
of the young lady and her inquiries : “Have you
heard any news of him?” “I ain’t so full of mescal as I
look. I kin think and talk straight as a rifle ball.
From the gab of some of May’s Dragoons, they calker-
late they’ll overtake Sharpe some time if he ain’t killed
fust. They say the talk at headquarters is that Hamp-
ton’s Spy Company has done more reliable scouting
than any other gang of Rangers. Old Rough and
THE SPY COMPANY.
247
Ready’s gone sweet on him, and that they’ll offer him
a captaincy in the Rifles like they’re going to give Sam
Walker, if Sharpe lives to git it.”
“Lives to get it ! Oh, if I could see him and tell
him that that wretch’s blood doesn’t stand between us,
then perhaps he’ll live!” breaks out the girl, despair-
ingly ; next sighs : “Sometimes, Harry, I fear some
one’s stopping my communications to my affianced.
You know how you rode after him down to Mata-
moras. He had left there ; but you sent on my letter
to the front. You had to return to your command.
Now, thank God, the Ranger Colonel has given you
dispatches to Hampton, though I don’t think it is much
more than simply ‘For God’s sake, Sharpe, don’t throw
away your life too carelessly !’ something of that
nature I Hays in his kind heart calls it a dispatch and
makes it your military duty to get this on from China.
He gave it to my teary eyes, to my beseeching, that’s
all ! He let me have you, Harry, to take me to the man
I love 1 To the man who is going to die.”
“Yas, we’re all a-gone to die,” remarks Love, philo-
sophically, “if we git on much further. We’re now
with the foremost cavalry troop, and if we go ahead
of ’em. Lord knows what’ll happen to us. I kin fight
for ye as good as any man. I kin kill a few dozen
Greasers, I hope, before I go under, but there’s too
many dozen to kill.’'
“Yes, but I must see him. If he’d only join the
main army and take his chances with the rest. He
must soon, if he lives. They’re all gathering together
now before Monterey to storm it. Then he’d have the
chance of any other man. Now Sharpe has no chance
at all, I think. You know if he had hope of me he
wouldn’t try to throw his life away. Get me to him !”
“Wall, I’ll — I’ll see what I kin do. You know the
country from now on will be full of rancheros, and
248
THE SPY COMPANY.
Hampton’s away south of Monterey on the Saltillo
road, I calculate, trying to see if the Mexicans are send-
ing any reinforcements to join Ampudia. But I’ll —
I’ll take a look about and talk to you a little later.”
The frontiersman goes away, leaving the girl anx-
iously pacing the mud floor of the adobe hut and sigh-
ing to herself : “How to reach him ? How to reach
him?”
In this she is interrupted by little Florito, who. comes
to her, a very suave look upon his olive face and a
pleasant twinkle in his beady dark eyes. Stroking his
long moustache and setting jauntily his red sash over
his big bell-shaped trousers, and clanking his big spurs
on his yellow boots, he says : “Honored Dona, I heard
your request to Carmel ita. You wish to be guided to
il Capitan Hampton. I can get you there for ”
“For what?” asks Estrella, eagerly.
“For a hundred silver pesos, or I’ll take it in gold.
I’m not particular about little matters. I know a safe
trail slightly south of here, more towards Montemore-
los, that will reach the village where Hampton should
be to-morrow.”
“You are sure you can get me to Captain Hamp'
ton?” Miss Godfrey’s tone implies doubt.
“Quien sahef I can try,” mutters the Mexican.
“If not to-morrow, certainly the next day. Are you
willing to take the risks? There will be some.”
“Yes, any risk! I will speak of your offer to Mr.
Love, who has dispatches for the Captain from the
Texan Colonel. He will go with me.”
“Oh, the Wild Eyed Harry. He will go with you ?
Bueno, speak to him. Then tell me if you wish to
meet Captain Hampton.”
The Mexican goes away, cursing to himself : “Df-
ablo, if that crazy Texan Ranger went with us, at first
THE SPY COMPANY. 249
sign of treachery poor Florito would become vulture
meat. Not Wild Harry, por amor de DiosT
In this he is aided by the Texan himself. Miss God-
frey, coming to Love, says : “Harry, good news. A
little Mexican who is the head of the dancing troupe,
who displays the one-legged clown and Carmelita, the
dancing girl, and the boy who turns somersaults, he
tells me that he knows a trail south of here. For a
hundred pesos he will guide us through it to the vil-
lage where Hampton must be to-morrow or the next
day.”
At this Love, turning his eyes upon her, cries : “Not
much! That moon has made ye luny! Trust our-
selves to that little sneaking yaller belly ? No sirree I
We’d have a hundred ranchero lancers around us.
We’d be gobbled I”
“But he says he will swear on the Virgin that ”
“No, Miss Godfrey,” answers the Ranger, “I’d
never, if I lived to git through, dare to tell Sharpe
that I let ye put such risk upon yerself. Besides, ’tain’t
possible ye’d git through! Ye put that wild idea out
of yer head. Git inter yer blankets and sleep it off !”
and goes away, leaving the girl more unhappy than
ever.
But into her reverie comes Carmelita, and whispers
to her sweetly, but passionately: “You say,* Yankee
dona, you have news that if given to il Capitan Hamp-
ton would prevent his throwing his life away, which,
ay de mi, I fear he will do soon. No man can take
such chances forever. Escopeta balls pierce a gallant
heart as well as a coward’s. If you wish to give word
to him. I’ll try to aid you.”
“But Mr. Love says it isn’t possible we’d get
through.”
“Doubtless that would be true with a few armed
soldiers, but Florito’s performing troupe wiJl not be
250
THE SPY COMPANY.
touched by rancheros. We are free of attack. One
night we dance to Canales’s Mexicans; the next night
we amuse Gillespie’s Rangers or McCulloch’s Mounted
i\Ien. We’re free to all. Now, if you alone go with
us, you become a member of Florito’s travelling troupe,
a dancing girl like myself, eh ?”
‘'Oh, goodness !” half-shudders Miss Godfrey, blush-
ingly gazing at the outre costume in which Carmelita
stands before her. But a moment after she adds :
“Still, I might journey with you. You might say I
was a dancing girl, and I could keep my face veiled,
after the manner of the Mexicanas, and I don’t think
I’d be noticed.”
“Of course not. Come with us. The hundred pe-
sos for Florito. Come with us, but don’t tell Wild
Eyed Harry. A word to him, and he wouldn’t let you
go. He has already warned you, hasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“It is your option. You can have word with Cap-
tain Hampton, or you can let him die unknowing what
you wish to say.”
“I’ll have word with Captain Hampton !” answers
Estrella, excitedly. “That wretch’s blood shall not
forever stand between us. Here’s your hundred pe-
sos.” She gives it to Carmelita in gold from a little
sack she carries at her belt. “Go make the arrange-
ments. What time do we leave?”
“At two o’clock in the morning, when all sleep. But
we must go out quietly,” and Carmelita departs.
To herself, Estrella communes devotedly : “I’ll take
the chance. It has been so weary waiting — a month
— and he thinking all the time that wretch’s blood was
that of my father, and so there could be no hope for us
together in this life. Yes, I’ll see Sharpe to-morrow
or the next day. See him ! O, Heaven, will the clouds
pass away and the sunshine break forth upon us again !”
THE SPY COMPANY.
251
After a moment Miss Godfrey, becoming calmer,
sits down and writes in pencil — there is no pen and ink
in the place — upon some pages of a memorandum book
certain instructions to Mr. Martin, her old guardian,
who by this time, she thinks, must be at the Hacienda
of Live Oaks taking charge of its enormous estate, for
now she has discovered large sums of money in Nev/
Orleans banks and the tremendous flocks and herds
and fields of which she is possessed. But her riches
have perhaps only hastened her speeding after her
affianced, separated from her by his terrible misappre-
hension.
Unable to get news to Hampton, Estrella had des-
perately come down to Matamoras, then up the Rio
Grande to Camargo, where she had left Zelma behind
her, wishing to be free for rapid travel, the octoroon
being unaccustomed to horse exercise. So she, riding
Indian fashion, as she had come over the prairie, with
revolvers in her belt, under Love’s escort, had jour-
neyed, overtaking various columns of Taylor’s infantry
and regiments of cavalry and battalions of artillery.
As the fair girl has passed through the rough sol-
diers’ hats have been raised quietly to her, they think-
ing she is some young widow or some daughter com-
ing down for her dead, for many brave spirits have
passed of wounds and more of fever along that track
from Camargo to Monterey, and many more will die
as they storm the Mexican citadel ere they plant the
American flag on the Bishop’s palace.
With this letter which she addresses to Alexander
Martin, and with another that bears the name of Sharpe
Hampton, the young lady comes out of the little adobe
house and wanders to the fandango, which is still in
progress, though the torches are burning more dimly.
Here she finds a dashing young officer of May’s Dra-
goons to whom she says : “Lieutenant Pelham.”
2$2
THE SPY COMPANY.
And he, looking at her, whispers : “jMiss Godfrey,
how can I serve you and raises his hat, though cour-
teously, quite formally, for already this young man
knows that there is no hope for him of the fair girl’s
love.
“In case there is any accident to me, would you
kindly deliver this letter to Captain Hampton? You,
I think, owe it to me for the wild words you spoke to
him that evening in Corpus Christi that kept his tongue
silent too long. Of course, you know we are affi-
anced ?”
“Yes,” mutters the dragoon. “I know that, and for
my impulsive words I will deliver this letter to Captain
Hampton if I die doing it. But you spoke — of — of
some accident to you. There is some danger here, of
course, to every one. Have you anything particular
to fear?”
“No, except that I shall be without escort. To-
morrow I journey by a quicker way than your column
would take.”
“That must not be !” cries Pelham, earnestly. “That
must not be !”
“Pve got to go. I have got to find Sharpe before
the next fight !” answers Estrella, frantically. “Every
minute from, him is danger to him. I’ve got to tell
my affianced there is no reason for his leaving me, who
was to be his bride within forty-eight hours, leaving
me almost at the church door !”
“He thinks you untrue to him?” gasps the dragoon
in low, astounded voice.
“Thank God, not that ! Sharpe thinks he has killed
my father, when it was only a vile wretch imperso-
nating him. Should you ineet Sharpe Hampton, teli
him he did the kindest deed man could do for woman
in shooting down the false Jim Godfrey, who, pretend-
ing fatherhood, would have made my broken heart the
^53
THE SPV COJIPANY.
buttress of his safety against the world. Sharpe will
understand. The story is too painful for me to tell in
detail. Good-bye. Thank you for your promise.'’
Miss Godfrey goes quietly away, and, finding the
company’s quartermaster-sergeant, delivers to him for
transportation her letter to Martin, and also a short
note, requesting him to hand it to Private Harry Love
at reveille.
Whereupon early this morning, long before day-
break, a strange cavalcade gets in motion. It consists
of Florito’s troupe of travelling performers. Among
them rides Estrella Godfrey, looking not so unlike Car-
melita, being dressed in the riding costume usual to
Mexican girls.
In front of her travels the one-legged clown, who
has now become two-legged, straddling his horse with
the grace of a vacquero. The boy who threw somer-
saults the evening before is an equally good equestrian,
and leads a couple of pack mules laden with the per-
forming costumes and the impedimenta of the party.
So they take their way out of the little Mexican vil-
lage, passing the American sentries, to whom Florito
delivers a pass signed by the commanding officer;
though the showman seems to be known quite well to
the outposts, one of them saying : ‘‘That was a mighty
good show you gave us last night. But, by Pike Coun-
ty, ye didn’t trot out both of yer dancing girls !” He
glances towards Miss Godfrey, who is heavily veiled
with her rehozo fapado.
“Yes, my debutante,” chuckles Florito. “She dances
for the first time at the next pueblo.”
Then they take their way up a trail leading by a rush-
ing brook that comes foaming from the Sierras, behind
which the moon is now sinking, its last rays illumining
heavy .chaparral of cacti, Spanish daggers, mesquites
254
THE SPY COMPANY.
and prickly pears, though higher up among the hills
are pines and firs.
With every step of Mulefoot along this rocky path
Miss Godfrey thinks, excitedly : “I am getting nearer
to my love 1”
But Florito, as he rides, the last of the party, grins
to himself : “Diablo, a grand ransom and likewise a
grand revenge. The affianced wife of the Ranger Cap-
tain who quirted me publicly on the plaza of Mata-
moras. For Dios, and she, my prey, whom I will make
my peon, and coin her charms into money till I let her
ransom herself and make me rich !”
As for Carmelita, perhaps she has some conscience
— for once or twice, riding by the side of her beautiful
fellow peon, she has opened her lips impulsively, as if
to say some words of warning, but each time the very
loveliness of her exquisite American rival has made
her snap her pearly teeth together like a vicious pec-
cary.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE WAIF OF THE BORDER.
From Monterey, the capital of Nueva Leon, now
beleaguered by General Taylor's Army, extends a
mountain valley running something over forty miles
to a little southwest of the town of Saltillo. A
long upland plateau, varying in width from a few hun-
dred yards to four or five miles, it is quite well culti-
vated for Mexico, having a number of cornfields
watered by the San Juan River, which gradually tow-
ards the south diminishes into a little stream. On both
sides it is bordered by the almost impassable mountains
THE SPY COMPANY.
255
of the Sierra Madre, most of the escarpments of which
are very steep.
Up this valley passes the main and only road capable
of the transportation of artillery or the necessary im-
pedimenta of an army marching from Monterey south
to attack San Luis Potosi, en route for the City of
Mexico. But a cut-off, a narrow mule path leaving the
immediate rear of Monterey, leads through the high
mountains, and after a number of miles of rocky trail
over commanding heights and dizzy precipices reenters
the Saltillo Valley. Monterey being now surrounded
by the American Army, Worth’s Division having got
in the rear of it and cut its garrison off from the main
road, this rocky defile is the only path open for passage
of infantry or light cavalry reinforcements to the gar-
rison of the beleaguered city, though utterly impassable
to artillery or heavily accoutred men.
Into this trail leads the little mountain path over
which Florito and his party escorting Miss Godfrey,
journeying- through the hills from the east, descend
upon the third day after the night of the fandango.
Florito thinks it is far from the highways of troops,
as he has no wish to surrender this valuable young
lady he is luring into captivity to rancheros. Under
his guidance they have gone at first towards Monte-
morelos, then have turned west through the hills which
gradually have become higher. Finally passing the
divide, they have spent two nights at little mountain
ranchos and are now descending into the main Saltillo
Valley, nearly a score of miles southwest of Monterey.
At the junction of these two trails, just out of the
big valley, is a little pueblo nestled in the hills and well
sheltered among woods of mountain timber. From it,
running down into the main plateau, the path is wider
and less precipitous, and might even permit the pas-
sage of a well-horsed light field piece, though the gorge
256
THE SPY COMPANY.
leading to the mountains is impracticable to any but
horsemen or footmen.
As Miss Godfrey in company with Florito and his
party rides into this little Mexican town towards even-
ing she scarce notices the place itself, which seems very
quiet and peaceful, though from the northeast comes
a low, faint, very distant rumbling, which she thinks is
thunder; though it is the roar of cannon telling of
dying brave men around the distant walls of assaulted
Monterey.
All the young lady’s eyes show her is that there is a
long, narrow defile leading through the great mountains
to the north, and into this descends the smaller mule
path that she has travelled. That beyond this, al-
most where the gorge debouches upon the plateau, is
a little town of adobes containing the ordinary plaza
upon one side of which is the usual Mexican church
built of stone, with its little peculiar shaped belfry.
Opposite this, on the other side of the plaza, stands a
half-ruined monastery; about it cactus-covered walls
also of stone, in which are visible the orange trees,
flowers and grape vines of a deserted garden. This
religious house has probably been abandoned by its
monks from the time of the Mexican War of Inde-
pendence.
Slightly nearer to them is a lower building, presum-
ably once a convent for women. It adjoins the monas-
tery, yet fronts another side of the plaza. Over all
this, lighting the gorge and making red the Saltillo
Valley beyond, is the great tropic sun sinking behind
the higher peaks of the Sierra Madre.
But in the red glow that illumines the unpaved
streets, though her eyes seek for them hungrily as
those of a traveller on the desert looking for an oasis,
she notes no Texan Rangers. As their little cavalcade
comes jingling into it she can see only a few nirales
THE SPY COMPANY.
257
of the nearby valley, a lot of cigarette-smoking niosos
and leperos, and a few gaudily skirted pohlanas, who
lounge about in their free Mexican style, though this
evening the very distant thunderstorm to the north
seems to put some excitement into them.
These crowd about the little party as Florito halts
his caballada in front of the deserted convent, whose
adobe walls are quite thick, having grated windows
and an unusually strong reja fixed on its heavily stud-
ded street door, though the iron work is rendered weak
by the rust of generations. This ruined convent Florito’s
party take possession of with scant ceremony, their
chief hurrying oif in his active Latin way to plant his
banner in the plaza and see the alcalde as to arrange-
ments for the coming exhibition.
Here in a big room with grated windows opening
upon the plaza Carmelita says : ‘‘Behold our quar-
ters !” and prepares to make herself comfortable,, laugh-
ing as Estrella shudders at the alacrans, centipedes
and scorpions that they find wandering about its cor-
ners and crevices. “Do with them as I do !” she cries,
vivaciously, as she crushes an alacran under her little
foot.
But even these reptiles affect Miss Godfrey’s mind
only passingly. She has sunk upon a pile of blankets
they have tossed down for her on the mu4 floor, and
is thinking only of meeting Hampton, which now seems
to her almost suspiciously delayed. After a little
she watches lazily, for she is quite tired, the hastily
lighted fire and the tortillas being made upon a hot
stone by a girl who seems to be the maid of all work
of the party, and who sold mescal and refreshments at
Florito’s fandango four evenings before, likewise the
olla podrida which is being cooked in an iron pot,
plenty of chili-colorado being tossed into it with suffi-
cient of garlic to make her open her nostrils. During
THE SPY COMPAKY.
258
this the American girl runs over in her mind rather
dreamily the incidents of her strange journey, which
through the mountains has been quite coolly pleasant
compared with that of the hot roads over the lower
plains.
During her travels she has received complaisant at-
tention from her fellow travellers and much encourage-
ment from little Florito, who, as he has ridden beside
her, has whispered to her every now and then: “Fa-
nios, il Capitan Hampton is ahead of us.”
To this she has said : “You seem to know his com-
pany’s movements very well.”
And the little scoundrel, being anxious to keep up
her resolution and incite her to rapid riding, has dis-
closed to her rather incautiously, though he is far away
from Mexican lancers, that he has been at times a spy
for the Americanos, and thus knows Hampton’s prob-
able location. “I have been with the Texan Captain
on and off this month, so has Carmelita,” he says be-
tween puffs of his cigarette. “We have been valuable
to him in — oh, you understand — information. Car-
melita and I could go into Monterey unquestioned.”
“You have been with Captain Hampton, and she has
been with Captain Hampton for the last month,” mut-
ters Miss Godfrey, and looks with uneasy eyes at the
beauty of the dancing girl who is riding in her grace-
ful Mexican style near the head of the party.
''Cierto. Carmelita is quite the right hand of the
American Captain. She would do anything for him.
You understand, quite the right hand?”
“Ah, yes, I believe I understand,” sighs Estrella,
though she cannot believe his words. Yet once or
twice in the last day or two, thinking of this, she has
said to herself: “Why should I try to see him? If
Sharpe really loved me, he could not ” then shud-
dered : “Why not ! He thinks a father’s blood stands
THE SPY COMPANY.
259
between us and I am lost to him forever!” This has
affected her spirits as she has ridden over the steep
mountain passes, the sure hoofs of Mulefoot carrying
her safely across the dizzy trail. Several times she has
cried mentally: ‘Tt is a duty I Under the circum-
stances, I will tell this man 1” then has tearfully fal-
tered : ‘Tf he has no hope of me, what may he not
have carelessly done? May he not have tried to for-
get me in ” She cannot continue the cruel thought.
She simply wrings her hands and begins to hate Car-
melita as thoroughly as Carmelita hates her.
As for Carmelita, several times during this curious
journey she has looked upon her lovely companion
when they have got to chatting together — as girls will
do, even if they hate each other — with strange spasms
of conscience in her eyes. Once she and Florito have
had a very angry discussion, the little showman bandit
raising his quirta to the dancing girl, and she putting
her little hand upon the stiletto in her bosom, has mut-
tered, snarlingly: “The time has passed for that.
Caramha, a blow and you are dead !” Then she has
laughed jeeringly: “There are tenderer shoulders
than mine. Beat your other slave!”
But Miss Godfrey doesn’t know the covert sugges-
tion of Carmelita’s words, and journeys unsuspectingly
along. For all through this curious ride, even after
the days have passed in which Florito has promised
she should encounter the Texan Ranger, she has had
but little thought of her own personal peril. She has
grown so accustomed to thinking of Hampton’s danger
that her own risk seldom rises in her mind. Besides,
she feels quite confident of her own powers of self-
defence. Has she not the Ranger’s two five-shooters
at her belt, and does she not know how to use these
arms with precision and effect!
Perchance she wouldn’t be as confident of their value
26o
THE SPY COMPANY.
did slie remember that at the last halt, where she had
unbuckled for her convenience the belt that carries the
heavy weapons and put them by her side, that Car-
melita has attracted her attention by taking her to see
some wild flowers growing in a rocky nook, lovely
orchids that are found very beautiful in^ Mexico ; that
when she has returned from this, only a few steps away
in a little neighboring gorge, Florito’s manner has been
much easier, and he has chuckled right merrily to him-
self as she has buckled on the belt containing her
weapons.
This retrospection is interrupted by the return of
Florito, who says, contentedly : “Carmelita, Fve seen
the alcalde. We perform this evening in the little
plaza.”
But Miss Godfrey, starting up, asks him : “Any
news of the Spy Company?”
“No, no news of the rangers,” he grins, “but we are
going towards them — to-morrow,” he waves his hand
towards the west.
But Florito’s only intention is to get as far as pos-
sible from the rangers and, in fact, he doesn’t care to
be bothered by Mexican rancheros. They might take
his valuable captive from him. In his mind is the
pleasing thought: “To-morrow we will cross the
valley and enter the main range. A few days from
now we will be in their fastnesses, well away from
contending armies, where I can make this rica girl write
such tearful letters that they will send for her delivery
whole mule-leads of silver. Diablo, then I will become
a rico myself !”
So over their supper he gets to chatting quite mer-
rily, saying to Carmelita, who has already put herself
into dancing toilet : '‘Santos, you’re pretty enough to
make a saint want to kiss you,” and, chucking her un-
der the chin, would perhaps place a salute upon the
THE SPY COMPANY.
261
dewy cherries she calls lips; but she steps back, and,
raising quick as lightning a stiletto, utters this astound-
ing sentiment for a woman : “Florito, dare to tell me
I am beautiful again and I’ll kill you. My lips are
only for one man !”
“Who never kisses* them V’ sneers the acute little
scoundrel.
At this cruel scoflf Carmelita looks at him with ago-
nized face, then throws up her hands and gasps : “Ay
de mi !” and sinks down upon a pile of blankets, crying
as if her heart would break, while the volatile little
showman goes chucklingly away to engage pine torches
to illuminate this evening’s exhibition in the plaza.
Looking upon this, a curious thought enters Miss
Godfrey: “For whom does she keep her lips?
Hampton ; who never kisses them !” and for every sob
of Carmelita there is a rapturous hope in the American
girl’s heart.
Quite shortly afterwards, hope is changed to terror.
Florito flies in excitedly and cries : '‘Santos, you see
them !”
“What, the Spy Company?” ejaculates Miss God-
frey, starting up wildly.
“No, maldito, the accursed lancers ofJTanales ! See,
they are coming up the defile from the Saltillo* road !”
Looking through the grated windows Miss Godfrey
notices in the dusk a column of rough-riding lancers,
the colors of their little green, white and red Mexican
flag, its centre emblazoned by an Aztec eagle, being
apparent in the light of the torches flaming for Flo-
rito’s exhibition in the plaza.
To the little showman’s rage, these fellows, some
hundred of them, make their preparations for the night,
putting out a picket further up the canon and lighting
fires in the plaza ; the bulk of the men occupying the
262
THE SPY COMPANY.
church, and their officers going off to the alcalde’s house
for their supper.
Peering out at them, Miss Godfrey thinks : ‘‘These
are the men from whom Hampton rescued me by put-
ting the Comanches on them five months ago. And in
all this time the man I love and I have had but one —
one blessed interview in which we told our passion to
the other. And now, when I had hoped to see his dash-
ing Rangers, these ruffians again cut me off from him.
Fate is against me !”
Fate seems also to be against Florito; he is not
very eager for the lancers of Canales. “The beasts
will give me next to nothing!” he snarls, “and they’ll
want everything ; every dance ; every contortion ; every
performer among us.” Then he cries suddenly to Miss
Godfrey : “Keep your head from the window, girl 1”
next mutters, affrightedly : ^'Diablo, you will have to
appear nowT
“I ?” This is a half-scream from the American girl.
“Yes, the mozos are chattering of my two dancing
girls. I mentioned you in my troupe to the alcalde.
For your own safety, you will have to be a Hgurante.
Otherwise the officers of these devil lancers, if they
guess, will demand you as their prisoner, and then,
santos y muertos, what will happen to you !”
“I — I, a dancing girl?” stammers Estrella, getting
red to the roots of her hair.
'‘Cierto, why not? You can dance?”
“Oh, yes, but only ballroom steps.”
''Caspita, that’s the idea. Ballroom steps. A nov-
elty. La Polka is now the favorite dance of Mexico.
Polka high. Kick your feet in air. Polka after the
Parisian manner I Carmelita, make her look like you !”
and he goes away, leaving Miss Godfrey trembling and
confused.
As for Carmelita, a kind of nasty triumph is in her
THE SPY COMPANY.
263
eyes. She is thinking : “Hampton turned up his nose
at me, the dancing girl. Bueno, she will be no better
than I am. And then her beauty and Canales’s officers
— Madre de Dios, it is a devilish thing I am doing !”
But she goes with eager hands making Estrella like
herself, chatting laughingly : “You will never be dis-
covered. Bah, some yellow clay and some wild cherry
juice upon those pretty white legs of yours, and they’ll
be as brown as mine. My skin’s as white as yours.
Your face is as tanned as mine now. It is only sun-
shine,” and Carmelita pulls her chemise from her
shoulders, showing them as beautifully formed and as
dazzlingly white where protected from the sun as even
those of the fair American. ''Jesus, dressed like me,
floating rebozo on your head, comb and castanets.
Vaya, you’re a dancing girl.”
During this she has been getting the American girl
into a costume like unto hers that she pulls from one
of the saddle bags. In this, though unaided, she has
not been resisted by Miss Godfrey, for in her agita-
tion Estrella doesn’t know exactly what to do. She is
thinking of Canales’s awful lancers. In- her ears is
ringing Florito’s terrible insinuation : “And then,
santos y muertos, what will happen to you !”
In a state of modest coma Miss Godfrey permits
Carmelita to unbind her hair and do it up in the float-
ing Spanish fashion, with comb and lace rebozo float-
ing from it, and allows even her shoulders to be stained
with the wild cherry juice, which Manola, the girl at-
tendant, has brought in.
Though glancing down upon herself now in the danc-
ing-girl’s costume, she knows she could easier die than
pose in its semi-nudity of limbs and bosom, before the
crowd gathering in the plaza.
Mistaking the repugnance on Estrella’s face, Car-
melita says reassuringly : “Idiot, don’t be frightened.
264
THE SPY COMPANY.
You look well enough. Verdad, you’ve got the finest
shape in all Mexico!” Putting a blazing torch before
a cracked mirror that she uses during personal adorn-
ment, she places her arm about Estrella’s waist, and
half pulls the American girl to it. “Here, look in the
glass!” she laughs, then ejaculates in a dazed way:
'‘Santissima Virgen, we’re as like as two cherries.”
Miss Godfrey carelessly gazing into the mirror starts
astounded; for face by face, the heads of both girls,
crowned with Spanish combs and floating lace scarfs,
their hair unbound and mixed together, their delicate
shoulders and bosoms side by side rising from the
snowy chemises, they look like copies of the same paint-
ing.
Though Carmelita’s figure is a little slenderer, and
her eyes and hair are slightly darker, the features of
both have the same cast, their eyes the same expression,
their faces the most striking resemblance of family and
blood.
Jesus, we’re as like as two sisters !” laughs Carmel-
ita.
“Like as two sisters!” cries Estrella, looking at the
mirror as if fascinated. “Like as two sisters?” She
ponders a moment and then asks eagerly : “You — you
told me you were the waif of the border. Who are
your father and mother ?”
“Devil knows,” jeers Carmelita. “Apparently they
looked like your father and mother.”
“Did I not tell you once I had a sister stolen? Your
age ?” asks Estrella, her voice tender but anxious.
”Quien sdbe? The sisters at Chihuahua got me when
I must have been about four. They called me twelve
when I left them. I — I’m eighteen now. But why are
you bothering with these questions? Let me get you
ready for la Polka !”
THE SPY COMPANY. 265
^^You remember nothing of your past? No memory
floats to you?” goes on Miss Godfrey, unheeding.
“Yes, my first recollection was a kick of a mule, and
my second a crack from a quirta, and my but don’t
you dare cry for me. I’m tough as rawhide ! Besides
I had a bauble once, a little circle. It was of gold, so
I lost it at monte ; bet it against a silver dollar.”
“A circle like mine !” cries Estrella.
“Yes ; did you win it from the monte man ? Besides,
there was a word.”
“The word you remember !”
“Oh, it was — it wasn’t even Americano. Sounded
like the priests’ Latin. Guess I must have heard it at
mass.”
“What was it ?”
“Well, it was — some name or something. What are
you asking me these questions for? Caramha, what
are you excited about? Here’s the cherry juice ! Let
me make those white legs as brown as mine.”
“Think, think ; please think !” cries Estrella. “No-
thing till you think !”
“Well, it was See-bill !” Then Carmelita snarls an-
grily : “Curse you, don’t kiss me !”
For the other has got her arm about her and is half
crying, half whispering : “Sybil ! I believe you’re my
sister.”
“Ah, don’t try that dodge on me to get my sympa-
thy,” scoflfs Carmelita, pulling herself away. “If you
were my sister, do you suppose I could stand by and
see you ” She snaps her pearly teeth together and
goes away murmuring in a shame-faced manner : “Sis-
ter— sister! That would be bad luck! Sister — San-
tissima Virgen, then I couldn’t hate her !” Still, this con-
sideration seems to have some weight on the dancing
girl’s mind.
Quite shortly after, Florito coming in crying :
266
THE SPY COMPANY.
“Canales and his officers are all ready for the show/’
and asking eagerly: “Let me look at my debutante.”
Carmelita, drawing him aside, whispers : “Impossible
to display her. Look at her trying to hide herself from
you. That extraordinary attribute the Americanas
call shame would betray her. Canales must not guess
you have a Yankee with you. You have been going too
much lately with Americanos for your own safety. If
they suspected you had been a Yankee spy, poor little
Florito would be stood against that church wall and
filled as full of escopeta balls as pigs are with stuffing.”
“Santos y demonios, I believe you’re right,” shud-
ders the little fellow, with white lips. Hastily throw-
ing a sarape over Miss Godfrey, he whispers : “Keep
close here, girl, for your own life. Don’t burn any
lights. Carmelita shall dance in your place, and I will,
if questioned, say you are ill of the fever or the vomito.
That will keep them away !”
But Carmelita, gazing on him, mutters excitedly
to herself : “What devilish thing has Florito in his
eyes? When Florito blinks, look out for him. Santa
Maria, he has blinked four times !”
CHAPTER XIX.
THE SPY COMPANY.
So the two leave Estrella in the dark, bat-haunted,
insect-crawling place. She hears Carmelita’s light
voice die away in the distance, likewise the exclama-
tions of the clown, who has become again one-legged,
and the acrobatic boy as they go out to performance.
Then after a time from the plaza float in the shouts
THE SPY COMPANY. 267
and ‘'Buenos !” of the crowd as the performance seems
to go merrily along.
Though the illumination of the torches in the plaza
puts a dull radiance into portions of the room, Miss
Godfrey doesn’t look out or heed this very much. She
is meditating of the sister she has claimed; and her
heart becomes tender to the waif of the frontier. She
sighs, thinking of the uncared for child tossed helpless
among the rough men of the border, Mexicans, Yan-
kees and half-breeds, whose diversion Carmelita must
have been at fandangos and fairs ; whose badinage, ap-
plause and admiration the dancing girl had been com-
pelled to accept as part of her very business, controlled
by a master who cares for nothing but dollars. By
this time, Estrella gauges Florito’s character very well,
though there is a crafty zenith of villainy in the little
fellow that later will make her blood run very cold in
her veins.
Then, under the martial sounds without, for they
are changing sentries, her mind drifts to the man she
loves, but scarce hopes to see again. Thinking of
Hampton, she shudders at Canales.
About this time. Miss Godfrey can hear horse’s
hoofs coming at a gallop along the mountain trail from
the north towards Monterey, and every now and then
the dull, distant thunder seems to float through the
mountain pass, though it never gets nearer and there
is no lightning.
Then there are fiercer cries and great excitement
from without; and the listening girl hears horse’s
hoofs again, though these go rapidly down into the
main valley. But the hasty words of two men passing
along the side of the plaza by her grated window tell
her that the booming of distant thunder to the north
is the American attack on Monterey : likewise that for
268
THE SPY COMPANY.
some unknown reason reinforcements have been sent
for by Canales.
Hearing this, Estrella wrings her hands and cries
out in despair : “Florito again promised that to-mor-
row I should meet Hampton and his dashing Rangers,
and now more of these ruffian lancers to make escape
impossible.”
So it goes along in her mind ; Carmelita ! Hampton !
Canales ! each bringing misery to her, till almost morn-
ing, the revelry being still kept up outside, as these
aguardiente-drinking rancheros are not troops under
regular discipline.
As daylight comes into the great room through its
big barred openings, danger imminent and degrading
confronts the watching girl. Carmelita enters hastily
and goes nervously about exchanging her dancing cos-
tume for the riding dress in which she travels. Then
she lights a cigarette and as she puffs it communes
with herself as if trying to fight down a rising con-
science. “A courier has come from the north. Canales
has sent to Muertos for reinforcements. A colonel of
cavalry may head them. Before his commanding of-
ficer arrives, Canales will take action.” She walks up
to Estrella and mutters : ‘‘Jesus, why have you made
me a devil? Why have you loved the man I love?
Why have you made his face cold to me? Why have
you caused him to turn from my proffered lips ?”
“A dancing girl’s lips are proffered to too many,”
says Afiss Godfrey, rising haughtily. Agony and de-
spair have embittered her tongue.
“Oh, yes, a dancing girl, but still like you, cold
Northern creature, immaculate. Caramba, don’t turn
from me as if I were contaminated — immaculate as
you! I was a child when I first saw the handsome
Captain and loved him, as he kept me from a beating
— a child ! Since that time I have held my lips for him
THE SPY COMPANY. 269
as surely, as safely, as you, cold Northern beauty, have
preserved your lips. It’s easy to be virtuous when one
loves but one man and — and he won’t love you.” Then
she cries petulantly : “Stop kissing me !”
For Estrella has got Carmelita in her arms and is
caressing and sobbing over her, and blessing her be-
cause Sharpe Hampton has not succumbed to her
witcheries and allurements.
“Oh, you needn’t thank me — thank him. When
Sharpe has lain out on the open plain at night, when
Florito and I had been engaged in going through the
Mexican lines and bringing him information, I have
crawled to him — to kiss him; and in his sleep he has
murmured your name. Oh, I could have driven knife
through him or through myself. That’s why I have
kept from him your ’’ Carmelita snaps her teeth
together, but hangs her head in shame-faced way.
“That’s why you’re here about to be ” She pauses
again and cries : “No, no ! You have called me sis-
ter ; I must save you from that !” and hastily throws a
cloak over Estrella.
“Save me from what?”
“Florito! That little villain must sacrifice you to
save his beastly life. Made arrogant by aguardiente,
he foolishly showed the gold you had given him and
what he had picked up by other efforts, some of it. from
the man you love. Canales always wants all the gold
he sees. The guerrilla officer had heard reports that
Florito had been agent for los Yankees; so they will
shoot Florito for a spy if they spare not his life for
some big ransom. Florito knows that, and his big
ransom will be you — your charms and beauty.”
“Me!” shrieks Estrella, springing up, and passes to
the door as if to try to fly, but Carmelita puts detain-
ing arm upon her, and mutters sadly : “Too late.”
For staggering in, is little Florito, his cunning face
270
THE SPY COMPANY.
very pale, his snake-like eyes excited, his lithe limbs
trembling. A burning torch is in his hand, as if he
feared Estrella might conceal herself. This he sticks
into the mud floor of the room, murmuring apologeti-
cally, half to himself, half to his victim : “There is
nothing for it. Canales, if I give you to him, will
after” — his tongue seems ashamed to utter the devil-
ish thought — “after a time permit you to be ransomed.
That money the guerrilla officer will divide with me.
But otherwise — he accuses mie of horrible things — me
a Mexican patriot! He hints I am a Yankee spy, and
threatens a court-martial. A drumhead don’t take ten
minutes.” Suddenly the little chap listens and gasps,
tremblingly : ^‘Dios, I can hear the guard loading their
arms now !” To this he adds in devilish yet faltering
philosophy : “Man, when his life is in danger, must do
everything to protect it. It is his duty, you see, Senor-
ita Godfrey, his duty.”
For Estrella has thrown herself upon her knees and
is pleading: “For God’s sake, don’t — don’t give me
over to Canales.” But seeing he still moves towards
the door, the American gii l suddenly springs up, com-
mands hoarsely: “You shall not!” and drawing her
revolver, sights him by the torchlight. To Carmelita
she calls : “Bar that door !” and to the showman says
sternly : “Move an inch to tell them you have me cap-
tive here, and it is your last step!” The pistol is
leveled very straight and doesn’t tremble.
But the little fellow, with a mocking laugh, still
moves from her.
“Then God forgive you and forgive me!” mutters
the brave girl, and shoots to kill.
But the lock on her revolver only snaps. She turns
the cylinder again, and aiming very straight, pulls the
trigger once more, but no report answers the sharp
click of the lock. To her jeers Florito: “You forget
THE SPY COMPANY.
271
you’ve left your pistols aside when Carmelita took you
to see the wild flowers in the glen.”
“Oh, you conscienceless wretch !” cries Estrella, turn-
ing in despairing reproach upon the dancing girl. “You,
whom I once called sister, you!” Then she falters:
“Deserted!” for Carmelita, with a muttered “Forgive
me !” has run out of the door, and Florito has darted
after her and is now bolting the door upon the outside.
The girl hears the bars coming down one after the
other, then the click of a rusty lock, though the dastard
calls through in guarded voice : “Courage, I want all
your ransom. I shall not give you up till I am look-
ing at the guns of the firing party. Dios de me Madre,
I am a man of honor !”
Fortunately in this moment of despair, Estrella God-
frey’s pistols are unfireable, else she would kill herself
and thus make sure Canales never will put his paws
upon her. But now the very helplessness of her situa-
tion forces her to inertness. Gazing about the big,
empty, mud-floored room into which she has been
locked, the girl feels sure its doors will never open
except for her delivery to the bandit chieftain. She
looks at her nude white limbs and uncovered should-
ers and shudders : “I will not be dragged out in this
shameless garb,” and hurriedly throws off the light
costume of the dancing girl and contrives to put her-
self once more in the Indian riding dress she had worn.
During this, she has once or twice, attracted by
noises in the plaza, looked out with staring eyes. By
the increasing morning light, she has seen apparently
a drumhead court-martial of three or four officers
gathered together outside the church. It is scarce
three hundred feet away. Before them she recognizes
Florito. She knows he will not tell of her until his
last chance is gone. She is too valuable to share her
ransom with another.
272
THE SPY COMPANY.
But now what passes before her swimming eyes
makes her shiver as if she had the ague. She sees the
firing party being drawn up. Florito is about to be
dragged to the fatal wall. With wild gesticulation he
has beckoned imploringly Canales apart and talked hur-
riedly to him, and that guerrilla chief, with long, black
moustache, dark, ferocious, merciless eyes, is laughing
and looking at her place of imprisonment, and giving
some hurried orders. But just here a mounted man,
coming down the trail from the north, hurries into the
plaza, and draws the scoundrel’s attention from her by
crying out : '‘Americanos!’'
The laugh and triumph stop on the guerrilla chief’s
face.
Estrella sees his officers hurriedly marshaling all his
men. “Surely to seize a poor girl, they wouldn’t need
so many,” she thinks, and noting Canales point up the
canon, she follows his motion and gives a gasp of crazy
joy.
Coming down from the north along the trail are a
company of mounted men. By their garb and arma-
ment, she knows they are Rangers, and looking with
all her eyes, can’t believe them. Her limbs tremble as
the fear of death is lifted from them. She whispers:
“The Spy Company !” then cries : “Sharpe Hampton !
He’s here. I am saved.” To herself she laughs : “Can-
ales’s men are gliding away. They have no wish for
battle with even these few Americanos.” Then pauses
horrified in her triumph, for she notes the Mexicans
are preparing an ambuscade, some fifty of them going
quietly with their escopetas into the church that the
Texans must ride past. The^xest are hurriedly mount-
ing and arraying themselves. She sees under the mists
of the morning a cloud of dust very distant coming up
the broad Saltillo valley. She remembers Carmelita’s
words, and mutters to herself, with white lips : “Re-
THE SPY COMPANY. 273
inforcements from Muertos. It is an ambuscade !
Hampton, pursuing the cavalry, will ride into the dead-
ly fusillade from the church. I must warn him.”
She would lift up her voice and scream out, but
knows the Texans are too far distant : “A few cries
won’t frighten Sharpe Hampton,” she thinks; then
suddenly grows very pale. For by the rising sun she
sees from each house and even from the church itself
the niozos and poblanos of the town are waving white
flags and handkerchiefs, and shudders : “Flags of
truce to kill the man I love !”* In her excited anguish,
she attacks the door with her little feet and hands as if
she would break it down and run out to warn him.
Then, seeing oak planks are too strong for her fragile
strength, she ceases bruising her flesh against them and
for Sharpe Hampton’s sake forces herself to become
cool and think with all her might.
Suddenly she takes the cylinder from her revolver
and examines it. A second later she cries joyously ;
“Florito only spoiled the caps !” and goes to refilling the
nipples with powder and from a little pouch in her belt
recaps the weapon.
Running to the window, white flags are floating
everywhere ; no signs of ambush from the church, and
Canales heading his squadron, is apparently retreating
down the defile to lure the Texans on.
Putting the revolver up through the grating of the
window, Estrella fires two shots into the air in quick
succession, and finds it gives the Texans warning.
The little command of some thirty Rangers, that
have been coming down the trail cautiously, though
* This same stratagem was employed by the Mexicans at the
Battle of Huamantla, a year afterward. By it Captain Sam H.
Walker of the Rifles was slain, sacrificing his life to save his
company in so heroic a manner that his death thrilled the
whole United States.— FafiVor.
THE SPY COMPANY.
274
they have quickened their pace at seeing the flags of
truce thrown not only from the ordinary dwellings of
the town, but from the church itself, suddenly pause
at the pistol shots.
She sees Hampton hastily knock up two or three
rifles that are leveled towards the opening from which
she fired, and whispers to herself : “Thank God ; they
know it is a friend.” Then noting that the Texans
after reconnoitering and discovering Canales’ mounted
lancers at the other end of the street, turn their horses’
heads and ride back in seeming flight up the canon,
she wrings her hands in anguish and moans : “They are
retreating. I have saved Sharpe, but taken the last
hope from myself.” Though she can hardly believe
her eyes, and, remembering Carmelita’s description of
the dread nature of this command, sneers : “For men
who want to die, this Spy Company seem to take very
good care of their lives.”
At this moment, seeing the backs of the Rangers, the
lancers who are on horseback, headed by Canales him-
self, can no longer hold themselves. With shouts of
rage and cries of victory, in their excited Mexican way,
they spur past the church and up the canon after the
retreating Texans and nearly reach them. Then in a
flash all is changed. The Texans wheel quick as ter-
riers whose tails are grabbed, and meet the lancers with
shots from deadly revolvers so coolly discharged that
almost to each report a ranchero falls off his horse.
“Oh, merciful Heaven, they killed nearly twenty at
the first fire ; oh, those murderous pistols !” screams the
excited girl. “Ah, they’re all coming this way to-
gether.” For, with pistol shots ringing out, the Spy
Company is now in the very midst of the lancers, the
whole concourse coming into the town in hideous med-
ley, dying men falling from their horses at every jump.
Estrella nearly laughs as she sees the boy lieutenant
THE SPY COMPANY.
275
called “The Bravo,” coolly smoking a cigarette, dodge
under a ranchero’s lance and shoot him down like
lightning.
So they come past the captive’s window, into the
plaza, in front of the church from which the Mexicans
in ambuscade dare not shoot, being as liable to hit
friend as foe. Then, Estrella gives another elated
scream, for though shooting and fighting to its very
gates, as the Texans reach the stone- walled convent-
garden, they swing off and ride in. Hbre, springing
off their horses, they man the cactus-covered wall and
pelt with rifle-shots the Mexicans in the church oppo-
site.
“Oh, what a lovely ruse !” yells the girl, and, danc-
ing about with excitement, careless of shots, some of
which have lodged quite near to her, continues her
comment : “They have hardly lost a man, and now
with their rifles against escopetas, will soon make those
in the church throw up their hands and wave real flags
of truce. It is the last of Canales. Sharpe killed him.”
For she has seen the guerrilla chief fall from his
horse to Hampton’s pistol as the Ranger wheeled into
the convent garden.
Then another look comes into Estrella’s eyes.
Though this tender creature has no pity for the man
who would have made her his prey, the bodies, of two
or three Texans lying down the road stabbed to death
with lances, make her wring her hands.
But the girl has little time for sympathy. Her eyes
are too much engrossed with the combat that goes on
about her, at its opening, quite in favor of the Ameri-
cans, whose deadly rifle-balls search each orifice and
window in the church opposite to them, slaughtering
the rancheros, who fire upon them. So the thing goes
on for an hour. Then the Texan fire grows more de-
liberate ; apparently they don’t care to use a great deal
276
THE SPY COMPANY.
of ammunition. She wonders if it is to make prepara-
tion for the regiment of lancers she can see coming up
the Saltillo plain, with them a light field-piece heavily
horsed.
“Sharpe must, be warned to retreat,” she thinks, “be-
fore numbers overwhelm him !” and would go forth
through the hailstorm of bullets in the plaza to give
him information ; but the strong oak door locked and
barred by Florito makes this impossible.
She knows its strength too well to attack it. Into
her mind, made active by excitement, flashes : “There
may be some other way !”
She goes looking about the great apartment, which
up to this time, she had only carelessly inspected, be-
ing kept from its distant portions by its wandering ala-
crans and centipedes. Its recesses are dark, but re-
lighting the torch Florito has left behind him, she makes
a hasty search.
Finally discovering a little portal unfastened, which
apparently leads to the rest of the building, she opens
it and goes groping by torchlight through the dark
passageways and cells of the old convent, disturbing
now and again a snake that rustles from her. All the
time the faint reports of musketry and rifles outside
show the fight is going on. In other days she would
have gone shuddering, crouching, trembling through
the gloomy route ; now she strides with revolver in one
fair hand and torch in the other.
Finally she finds to her eager searching a passage-
way, leading first into a little chapel, then into the con-
vent once used by the old priests. The din outside of
this is terrific, showing that she is close to the combat.
Issuing very cautiously from this, she crouches down
behind a stone balustrade, looking from a low terrace,
despite musket-balls and escopeta slugs that whistle
about her, upon an awful sight.
THE SPY COMPANY.
277
The day is a bright tropic one. The hot sun shines
clown through a little heat haze upon the church across
the square, shrouded in the smoke of its musketry. In
the foreground are the orange trees, plants and flow-
ers of the priests’ garden, their leaves dropping and
their twigs and branches falling to the earth, cut away
by pelting musketry. Just in front of these, manning
the cactus-covered wall of stone, are the Spy Company,
marketing their reckless lives at a very stiff price in
Mexican blood. Wounded and unwounded, the slender
line of rangers defend this wall against tremendous
odds, for already some of the Mexican reinforcements
have arrived from Muertos. Two or three dead bodies
lie in the orange trees of the garden and a dying gam-
bler, lying beside them, desperately maimed, is de-
liriously shrieking out : “Copper the ace !” The rest
are all at their posts, and one, a youth, whose head is
swathed with bloody bandage, and whose pale face and
ashen lips foretell coming death, not strong enough to
stand, is half leaning on a couple of saddles and firing
his rifle slowly and accurately, doing his duty till he
dies.
Another, an old, hard-featured scout of the frontier,
is patting him on the back and pouring down the dying
boy’s white lips the last drop of water from his canteen,
and laughing : “Bully, little Johnny, that was a great
shot of yours. That swatted a Greaser sergeant.”
Further down the line she hears a Saxon voice
shouting of mounting guard in St. James’s Palace, and
looking, sees the English lieutenant who Carmelita said
was a lord, with a great big wound in his breast,
propped up and shooting his rifle, but between shots
raving of the Royal Horse Guards Blue, and lords and
honorables and dukes and duchesses.
Behind this line is a sunny-haired boy she recognizes
as “The Bravo” from Carmelita’s description. He is
278
THE SPY COMPANY.
walking up and down, coolly smoking his cigarette,
though he has a cocked revolver in his other hand, now
and then giving orders to the rangers, and selecting
places for them to direct their fire.
But even this doesn’t impress the girl so much as
the figure of Sharpe Hampton, who is just springing
on horse ready to dart out into the hail of bullets.
Though noting the awful danger to him, the little Bravo
has stepped up, and between puffs of his cigarette has
called : “Sharpe, don’t try it. The boys can’t spare
you this trip !”
To him Hampton says: “1 have got to. We’re at
the very last cartridge. The ammunition mule lies dead
three hundred yards up the street. I have got to.
How’s Harrowly ?” He nods towards the English lieu-
tenant.
“Going. He’s raving of Hyde Park and he’s got into
the aristocracy. He’s fighting just the same, grffty
but going.”
“Then, when I’m away, you’re in command. Re-
member Worth’s orders are to hold this pass so that no
cavalry and light troops get behind him while he’s at-
tacking the Loma and the Bishop’s Palace. Hold it
till ”
“Till I stop smoking cigarettes,” laughs the boy.
“That will be long enough,” answers Hampton.
“Now, tell the boys to keep down the Greasers’ fire till
I get round the corner of the plaza.”
Miss Godfrey is about to cry out to him, but just then
a man falls dead from the wall just in front of her,
and before her pale lips can frame an outcry, Hampton,
bending low in his saddle, dashes through the half-
open gate. The Mexican musketry seems to give him
heavy greeting. But a yell from one or two of the
men further down the wall tells her Hampton has dis-
THE SPY COMPANY.
279
appeared round the corner of the plaza. Then she
sinks down to pray for him.
Apparently her praying is not in vain, for distant
screams of rage and ''Carambosr and ''CarajosT
float from the church opposite, and the Mexican shoot-
ing is stronger than ever despite the faint replies of the
almost cartridgeless Texans.
Then there is a yell, and though the bullets fly faster
from the church, Hampton comes dashing in, springs
off his dying horse, and throws two big leather bags
down in the garden behind the wall, and says to the
Bravo : “Close call ! they shot my sombrero off and
clipped one of my spurs.”
Then the men come gradually down one or two at a
time, to replenish their cartridge pouches, though a few
old frontiersmen only take powder and ball, loading
their rifles in the Kentucky way and using patched
balls that go very straight.
During this, Estrella is trying to get down into the
garden, but finds no outlet from the terrace. Once or
twice she wildly calls her sweetheart’s name. In the
noise of battle the girl isn’t heard. For now the Tex-
ans are intent upon a regiment of cavalry coming up
from the valley; ahead of it a field-piece dragged by
twenty horses up the steep path, and the Bravo has
cried: “There’s a gun coming around the corner,
Sharpe.”
“Then it must never be fired,” is the terse reply.
Estrella hears the orders quietly given, and a detail
tolled off, each man in rotation, to shoot the first Mexi-
can gunner putting lintstock to that cannon.
Almost as the words are spoken, there is the quick
trample of hoofs, and the gun, dragged by twenty
horses, rapidly enters the plaza and is placed in posi-
tion, the Texans holding their fire.
But as they wheel the field-piece into position, there
28o
THE SPY COMPANY.
is a noise as if a bunch of firecrackers was exploded
from the wall, and Estrella sees half a dozen can-
noneers go down, though one, apparently the sergeant
of the section, takes up the lintstock ; but to the crack
of Hampton's rifle, he falls dead.
Another seizes the port fire, but a frontiersman shoots
him down; he staggers from the gun and tumbles dy-
ing on the plaza. And so on, every man trying to fire
that cannon dies, till all the gunners have been shot
away. Then the Mexican officers desperately put in a
detail of dismounted lancers to do the work, but none
lives to reach the cannon; and it stands only attended
by dead men.*
All this time the rest of the Texans are keeping down
the fire from the church. They are not quite so many
now. One lies moaning, with an escopeta ball through
both shoulders; the boy who was mortally wounded
and fighting on, has^given a gasp and dropped his
rifle; and the English lieutenant has screamed de-
liriously : “Charge ! God save the Queen !” and fallen
from the wall.
Of this Estrella has seen little ; frantically trying to
find entrance to the garden, she has left the terrace and
is exploring the vaults underneath the chapel. Now
discovering a little narrow portal, she has come
crouching through the musketry-pelted orange trees of
the garden and is within a few feet of Hampton.
Even as she raises her voice to call him, a shuddering
dread palsies her tongue. The man she loves, remark-
ing to the sunny-faced boy they call “The Bravo”:
“Hang it, they’ve got riatas around that gun. They
must never get it into the shelter of the church !” pulls
both revolvers from his belt, cocks them and runs out
of the open gate into the hail of bullets on the plaza.
At this, even the little lieutenant, throwing his cigar-
* This happened also at Mier in 1842. — Editor.
THE SPY COMPANY.
281
cite away, mutters hopelessly : “That’s certain death !“
Springing to the wall and clambering up a little em-
brasure in it, Estrella peers over and sees Hampton
running straight at the six-pounder, that is surrounded
by a new detail of men.
As he comes, half a hundred muskets from the
church across the plaza are leveled at him. She shrieks
“Sharpe, come back!” and frantically waves something
she has plucked from her belt, beseeching him to re-
turn.
Then there are cries of astonishment from the Tex-
ans. Hampton has shot the gunners all about the can-
non, and disabled the gun itself by firing up its vent.
Not a Mexican hand has been raised against him as he
comes running back.
But now from the church arise enough anathemas
and curses to almost unsanctify it, and volley after vol-
ley of vengeful musketry.
But the Spy Company’s fire is very deadly and makes
the escopeta shots inaccurate. So Sharpe comes into
the garden, as if he had a charmed life. Here he says
shortly and sternly : “Boys, what dastard of you raised
a flag of truce upon this wall and made me murder
those six Mexican gunners ?”
“Murder Greasers?” scream his men.
“Yes, not one of them defended himself. They
thought we had surrendered. I saw the white rag as
I hurried back I”
“Bedad, we’d no more wave a flag of truce than
the divil would drink holy water,” jeers an Irish ranger.
The Bravo simply says : “Not one of ns, Captain,
hoisted a white rag.”
Then they all pause, astounded, for a sweet girl’s
voice from a cactus-screened part of the wall cries over
the din : “I did.”
Gazing at her, Hampton gasps: “Strella! Good
282
THE SPY COMPANY.
God! you here?” and reaching up, plucks her to a
place of greater safety.
did I” says Miss Godfrey, stoutly. ‘‘The Mexi-
cans this morning waved flags of truce to lure you into
ambush. Turn about was fair play. I waved a white
handkerchief to save your life.”
CHAPTER XX.
carmelita's return.
With this, the rangers lining the wall near them yell
with laughter, even as they fight, and one cries :
“Waugh, did the Greasers up with thar own med’cine 1”
And another shouts : “She’s clean grit, Sharpe !”
“Yes, I — I hope I am!” answers Estrella, radiant in
the thought that she has saved, if but for a moment,
the existence of the man she loves; adding to the in-
quiring and astounded faces turned to her : “Tm
Sharpe Hampton’s girl ! I journeyed all the way from
San Antonio to tell him not to throw away his life.”
In the seclusion of a cactus-screened embrasure she
holds up her lips for his caress.
Though his hungry eyes never leave her, the Captain
makes no move to take her to his heart, but whispers
in a dazed yet moody way : “You here?”
“Yes, here to tell you to — ^to live for my sake.”
“Impossible!” A horror is on the Texan’s face.
“Don’t you understand?” he shudders. “Don’t you
know, girl, I have killed your father? Your father’s
blood is between us,” and would turn from her to give
some orders.
But she answers : “No father’s blood ! You thought
you killed my father, when it was only a vile wretch
impersonating him. The shooting down of those vil-
THE SPY COMPANY. 283
lains was as great a kindness as man ever did for wo-
man.”
“Not your father?” Sharpe passes his hand in a
dazed way over his face and mutters: “Impossible!”
“Impossible! Would a daughter’s lips salute her
father’s slayer?” cries Estrella, and bashfully yet ten-
derly kisses the doubt from her lover’s face.
Then the pent up passion of his long despair breaks
out in Sharpe Hampton. In a hungry, crazy way,
his arms go round his sweetheart as he listens to
her hurried yet wondrous tale. At its close he whis-
pers, “Thank God, you’ve made me want to live !” and
gives her kisses so ardent that they reward the girl,
who is half swooning on his breast, for all the dangers
and troubles of her long journey from San Antonio.
At a distance the fire of battle had illumined his fea-
tures, but now close to him, Estrella sees what this
man must have suffered, and her heart goes out to him
even more. She nestles to him, and even with the
bullets smiting the wall against which they lean, the
two go into a short, blissful love dream.
But now some hasty orders from “The Bravo” call
Hampton to active combat. With a hasty, fervid clasp,
he shudders : “My own, those devils of guerrillas will
butcher you as well as us if they break in,” and springs
from her to do desperate battle for her safety against
constantly increasing odds : for more troops of Mexi-
can cavalry have come, and they now charge up to
the ruined gate, hoping to press in by very force of
numbers. But the Texans, coolly waiting till the
rancheros get within revolver range, open such a fire
on the assaulting horsemen that their bodies are piled
up around the convent entrance and riderless steeds
run everywhere about the plaza.
So the battle goes on. But now, the Texans, under
the hot sun, suffer for want of water. And the Irish-
284
THE SPY COMPANY.
man, coming up, touches his hat and says : “ ’Ave yes
iny spirits left, Capt’in? Langdon’s wounded so he’s
faintin’ !”
^‘Spirits?” cries Estrella. “Florito’s! Give me two
men to go with me. I can get spirits.”
“And water also?” asks Hampton, eagerly.
“Yes, I think so. Tell two men to go with me.”
She runs off, followed by two rangers, through the lit-
tle chapel and long passageways, and coming into the
big mud-floored room of the woman’s convent, finds to
her joy a couple of bottles of aguardiente in the saddle-
bags of the showman and four or five pails of water
that had been brought in for the cooking; likewise
some frijoles and tasajo. With these she returns and
begins to minister to the rangers, begging Hampton to
have the wounded carried into the little chapel, where
she attends them, pouring spirits down their fainting
lips and giving them the attention and care that women
give when men most need it.
Now the talk is through the command even as they
fight on that Sharpe Hampton’s girl, the one he had
been crazy for and wished to die for, has come to him.
Looking on their leader’s face, they know he wants to
live. He becomes the rara avis of the company, the
only one who cares very much for life. A haggard
frontiersman voices this, between rifle-shots : “Fm glad
Sharpe’s changed his mind about gettin’ rubbed out —
but, by Hell, I ain’t. My wife and darter are still
Comanche squaws.”
This idea seems now to affect the Texan Captain.
More Mexican reinforcements arriving, he mutters
to Estrella, who, despite his orders, has crawled to his
side on the firing line : “God, girl, you shouldn’t have
come here. You make coward thoughts! I get to
thinking only how to save you. But I can’t leave my
wounded to be butchered here.”
THE SPY COMPANY.
285
“Yes, fight it out, Sharpe. Fight it out !” she whis-
pers. “I loved you because you were a brave man. I
wouldn’t love you if you were a coward.”
Looking at the girl, the Texan Captain’s face,
though at times it has a wild light of happiness, at
others, is covered with unutterable despair. To her he
once mutters : “I don’t think we can get away. We
have only fifteen unwounded men now, and the cursed
Greasers are bringing up more troops from that valley.
Were I alone, I wouldn’t mind — but you. Besides,
the cartridges are getting low again. We have had to
use so many to keep them from firing that field-piece,
and they’re bringing up another one. When that
comes, if I don’t stop its discharge, why, I reckon we’re
gone.”
About this time there are wild cries from the Mexi-
cans. Another field-piece is being wheeled into the
plaza under the slackening Texan fire. Then suddenly
Estrella, who is looking on from as safe an embrasure
as can be found, comes to him and whispers : “My
God, Sharpe, you mean to do it ?”
“Yes, I’ve got to, dear one. I’m going out to kill
those gunners with revolver shots. It’s the only thing.
Revolver shots at arm’s length sicken ’em ! Then
there’ll be no more gunners to fire the piece.”
But she has got hold of him and is imploring him :
“For God’s sake, give yourself one chance. Don’t die
before my very eyes ! Think how I came to save you !
Don’t go !” then has suddenly screamed : “He's gone
for you !”
For the little Bravo has taken two hasty puffs of his
cigarette and tossed it away, muttering : “Reckon it’s
my last one !” and with two big revolvers in his hands
has run into the plaza and is shooting down the Mexi-
can gunners just as they are unlimbering the piece.
But he is not protected by a flag of truce, and though
286
THE SPY COMPANY.
he comes staggering in, he falls dying at the feet of
Hampton, as Estrella cries : “Why did you do it ?”
To her he answers : “Why, Sharpe looked so cursed
happy, I thought Ed die instead of him;” then whis-
pers : “A cigarette, please.” But after a puff or two
his blood chokes him, he coughs, and, opening his
arms, as if he were taking some loved form into them,
mutters : “Mother !” turns his face away and goes to
Heaven — Estrella is sure he goes to Heaven !
As she sobs over the dead, she whispers : “Sharpe,
that boy’s death is not in vain! I hear something
coming down the trail — coming down — horses’ hoofs 1”
Women’s senses are sometimes more acute than men’s.
The Texan Captain listens and says : “I hear noth-
ing, and yet I have good ears upon the trail”; next
abruptly cries : “Boys, there’s horses’ hoofs — lots of
’em — down the trail from the north. They can’t be
anything but our troops. Never mind if you shoot
your last cartridge now. Give it to the Greasers every
chance you get.”
Listening, his men hear also the sound of hoofs —
many of them — at full gallop, coming down the trail.
The Mexican outposts are being drawn in; they are
preparing to ride away.
Estrella, gazing at them, gives a gasp of horror. Ap-
parently in revenge for their defeat, they drag out lit-
tle Florito from the church, put him up in front of the
wall, and a firing party sends the traitor to his last ac-
count. One of the rangers jeers : “The little Greaser
has got his pay from both sides now.”
As the head of an American cavalry column enters
the plaza, there is a cry : “May’s Dragoons I” and right
at Estrella’s side a man remarks : “And headin’ ’em is
Wild Harry and that dancing girl, who war spyin’ for
the Capt’in all last month !”
But Miss Godfrey is too happy now to have aught in
THE DEFENSE OF THE CONVENT WALL
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THE SPY COMPANY.
287
ner but kindness for one she thinks her sister, and who
has once more saved the life of the man she loves. She
looks on without a jealous pang as Carmelita, riding
into the convent garden, calls almost hysterically to the
Texan Captain : ‘'Dios, Sharpe, saved your life again,
didn’t I?”
“Whaugh, how we rid,” chuckles Harry, who is be-
side her. “Lucky Worth has taken the Loma and
Bishop’s Palace, so the cavalrv could be let off for this
job.”
A shout of triumph from the Texans announces they
have heard this news also from some troopers of the
relieving force, the rest having gone in pursuit of the
Mexicans.
Then Mr. Love, nodding towards Carmelita, mutters
to Estrella : “She told me about yer. Jingo, yer grit-
ty. Looks as if ye’d made Sharpe fight pretty hard
to keep his life this trip.” He glances at the scene of
combat.
During this the colonel of the relieving force recalls
nis squadrons, remarking significantly : “Hampton,
you’ve sickened them of fighting for to-day.” He
points across the plaza towards the shambles around
the deserted field-pieces.
Here a young lieutenant, returning with his recalled
troop of cavalry, coming up, says: “Thank God,
Hampton, I’ve overtaken you at last! Here’s a letter
Miss Godfrey charged me to give to you.” Then Pel-
ham, gazing astonished at Estrella, mutters : “How did
you do it ?”
“Fortunately, she got here ahead of her missive,
otherwise reckon I’d gone under with so many of my
boys,” sighs Hampton, looking at his skeleton troop.
He is not mounted. Though a fresh horse has been
brought up to him, he stands rather holding on the
pommel of the saddle.
288
THE SPY COMPANY.
During these brief moments, Miss Godfrey has twice
had Carmelita’s name upon her lips, adding to it that
of sister, but the other has always turned her head
from her as if ashamed.
At Pelham’s mention of correspondence, an expres-
sion of humiliated misery runs over the dancing girl’s
vivacious features, her face grows pale as the Texan’s
before whom her horse is standing. To him she des-
perately mutters : “Sharpe, here’s your correspon-
dence,” and pulling from her breast a package of let-
ters, stained and dirty from long mountain travel,
hands them to the astonished Captain.
“From whom?” he asks. They are addressed to
him in a feminine hand that he has never seen before.
But Miss Godfrey cries: “From me — my letters!”
“Yes, kept from you, Sharpe, by me,” murmurs Car-
melita. “Oh, it was easy. You were always at the
front scouting, I took them from the quartermaster for
delivery to you. I — I didn’t know they’d make you
want to live! How happy your face is! Adios,
Sharpe.” She holds out her hand. “Take it, and for-
give me !”
“Where are you going?” asks the ranger, his voice
rather low.
“To my countrymen, the Mexicanos. of course!”
Carmelita has reined her horse to turn away. Her eyes
are full of tears. She looks him in the face and her
lips seem to say : '‘Querido mio — forever.”
But Hampton, some guess of her design getting into
him, cries: “Catch her! She’s going to her death!
They have shot Florito out on the plaza there for being
a spy. Do you suppose they will spare her after having
brought you down upon them?”
As he lays hand upon Carmelita’s rein, she plucks
it from him and shudders : “Stay here to see you and
THE SPY COMPANY. 289
her? Por Dios, no!’^ and drives the spurs into her
mustang.
But Estrella screams : “Stop her ! She’s trying to
get killed!” And being already mounted, rides after
her, shouting : “Sister, come back 1”
To her imploring, Love and half a dozen other
troopers join the chase. But it is difficult to catch a
Mexican girl on horseback, and Carmelita nearly reach-
ing the Mexicans, who have turned back. Wild Harry
suddenly pulls up his rifle and shoots.
“Don’t! She’s my sister!” screams Estrella. “Do
you want to murder her ?”
“No, I want to save her life !” says the frontiersman.
“Shoot at the Greasers, boys, as if you war shootin’ at
ther gal. Shoot! It is the only thing will save her
life. Plug close to her, but mind yer eyes and don’t hit
her.”
Under his direction, the troopers pour in a volley
from their carbines, which reach one or two of the
Mexicans, though Carmelita rides on. They shoot
again as if they were shooting at her, all the time Es-
trella beseeching them: “For God’s sake, my sister,
my sister !”
Then as the troopers pull up. Wild Harry chuckles :
“That war a great idea, plugging at her as if she war
an escaping prisoner. That will save her life from the
darned Greasers, if anything will. The very notion
that we wanted to kill her will make the yaller bellies
think she is one of thar kind.”
“Do you think they will shoot her?” questions Es-
trella, in frantic eagerness, as she sees her sister’s red
sarape disappearing in a cloud of dust, surrounded by
Mexican cavalry.
“Reckon not after our tryin’ to pot her,” cries
Love. “Waugh, that war a mighty cute, crazy strata-
gim of Wild Harry, warn’t it ?
290
THE SPY COMPANY.
Becoming more composed, Miss Godfrey looks about
her and says: “Why, Sharpe’s not here.” .
“That’s kind of funny,” mutters Harry, “The Cap is
ginerally to the front in every scrimmage.”
The two ride hastily back, to find the Texan Cap-
tain seated on a pile of saddles, and an army surgeon
bending over him.
“What’s the matter ?” asks Miss Godfrey, springing
from her horse.
“Nothing to be scared at, Strella!” The Texan’s
answer is so faint she hardly hears it.
“Nothing! Why, he’s been shot for hours,” says
the surgeon, who is working over him. “He was bleed-
ing slowly to death, and didn’t know it. But, thank
Providence, I got to him in time, and now, with plenty
of woman’s nursing-^ ”
“Plenty of woman’s nursing,” cries Estrella. “Oh,
he’ll have that.”
“Yes, I see he will,” remarks the surgeon, drily, for
already the girl has soothing hands on her wounded
hero.
A little after she turns to the Colonel commanding
and says to that grim officer: “You have got to stay
here till Hampton has recovered some strength.”
“I guess she’s about right, sir,” remarks the surgeon,
“for a day or two, anyway.”
So the Colonel leaves Sharpe Hampton in the con-
vent, but leaves two troops of cavalry to protect him
and the rest of the wounded.
In a few days the Ranger Captain is brought up
through the mountain pass, attended by a devoted wo-
man, who is sighing over him, yet fighting death for
him as bravely as he had fought guerrillas to save her.
Thus they reach the city of Monterey, over which
the American flag is now flying, and here learn that an
armistice of two months has been arranged between
THE SPY COMPANY.
29T
General Taylor and the Mexican military authorities.
From this city Miss Godfrey tries to learn something
of Carmelita’s fate, but can hear nothing except that
no woman has been executed by the Mexicans.
After a time she brings her wounded lover by easy
stages to Camargo, still escorted by Wild Harry and
Pelham, with a detail of troopers.
Here she is joined by Zelma, and they board a
steamer to take them down the Rio Grande to Mata-
moras. Upon the vessel’s deck, taking leave of his lost
love, Pelham says rather sadly: “I — I suppose the
next time I see you — if I ever come back from the
front — you will be Mrs. Hampton.”
‘T hope so,” answers Estrella, her eyes very bright
with this idea as she turns them upon her wounded
sweetheart, who is now sufficiently recovered to enjoy
'the air and a cigar upon a camp-stool.
‘T know so!” laughs Hampton, who has regained
some of his old-time spirit : “By San Jacinto, you
couldn’t get me to run away from her again even if I
had shot three or four daddies. You see, Strella’s rela-
tives have been rather hard on us. First, her putative
father’s death separated us, and then her letters to me
were cut off by her real sister. Between ourselves, I
rather imagine Carmelita is Sybil.”
“Pm sure she is,” says Estrella, “and in that matter,
Mr. Pelham, I hear your regiment is ordered to join
Scott and to go down to the City of Mexico. When
there, do what you can, for Heaven’s sake, to find my
sister and bring her back to me.” Here coquetry
sparkles in the coming bride’s eyes. “You' know Sybil
is very like me. Just put us in — in ” She pauses
embarrassed.
“In airy Mexican nothings, short skirts and bare
legs,” laughs Hampton, who has heard the dancing girl
episode, “and they’re as like as two peas.”
292
THE SPY COMPANY.
'‘Hush,” murmurs Estrella, blushingly, “Mr. Pel-
ham ’ll think you’re delirious again, Sharpe !”
“Humph, you offer a very attractive inducement.
Miss Godfrey,” observes the dragoon, and after he has
taken his leave, walks off the steamer’s deck, whistling
rather contemplatively.
Two months later the big hacienda of Live Oaks is
decked for festival. The tenants, settlers and under-
overseers are feasting on wild turkey and fresh venison,
and every. negro on the estate is so full of good things
that he can only lie around and yell for his “missie.”
This gala day is under the auspices of Mr. Alexander
Martin, who has taken charge of his ward’s great es-
tate, and with his daughter, the dashing brunette
Clara, is now making this festivity for Miss Godfrey’s
wedding — a simple little frontier ceremony, but oh,
how happy a one !
This is indicated by Miss Clara Martin, who
gorgeously arrayed in finest New York fashion, has
acted as bridesmaid, and now remarks to Wild Harry,
who, in the first “biled” shirt he has ever sported in his
life, is gazing solemnly at the groom : “Don’t they
look happy? Captain Hampton could make any girl’s
heart beat, because he’s every inch a man. Though he
still walks with a cane, I’d risk him against a grizzly
bear. Are there any more like him ?”
“Yes,” replies Harry, modestly, “thar are five hun-
dred more just like him under Hays, and I’m one of
’em. I’m jist like him. Waugh ! That’s a mighty cute
hint of mine, ain’t it?” he chuckles, for his wild eyes
have awful suggestions, and Miss Martin is red as fire.
For one of the few times in her life, the New York
belle is embarrassed. She has turned away to the bride,
who has just been received by Zelma. In a modept
maid’s dress of white, the octoroon makes a beautiful
THE SPY COMPANY.
293
picture, her pearly complexion and exquisite tinting
giving her Dresden shepherdess effects.
As she curtesies to Estrella, she murmurs: “Dear
mistress, did not I say out on the prairie, Fd like Cap-
tain Hampton for a master ?”
“You have no master now,” remarks the bride, radi-
antly. “Sharpe and I thought we’d do something for
you on our wedding day. You’re your own mistress.
Mr. Martin has your papers of manumission.”
“Oh God bless you,” cries the girl, and kisses
Sharpe’s hand as well as his bride’s. “But — but Fll
never leave you, anyway. I can stay with her, can’t I,
Captain Hampton, just as you will — forever?”
A year and a half after this, the Mexican war being
finished. Captain Hampton and his wife chancing to be
in New Orleans, Sharpe buying supplies for the big
plantation and Estrella purchasing pretty things for
herself and baby, are standing on Canal Street, watch-
ing Uncle Sam’s soldiers, returning victorious from the
Capital of the Montezumas. As May’s Dragoons are
riding past, a sunburnt officer salutes his colonel and
after a few hurried words, apparently receives dismis-
sal. An orderly seizes his horse’s bridle as he jumps
off and shakes Hampton’s hands, saying : “Fm luckier
than a good many of the boys — Fve got back with life
and promotion, and ”
“Did you see anything of my sister. Captain Pel-
ham ?” asks Estrella, very eagerly, her eyes filling with
tears.
“Why, yes!” answers the Captain, heartily. “I re-
membered your suggestion, and if you and your hus-
band will come up to the St. Charles Hotel with me,
Fve — Fve a little loot from the Mexican Capital Fd
294
THE SPY COMPANY.
like to show you. In fact, it’s kind of a present to you.”
“Yes, but tell me about my sister; is she alive?”
whispers Estrella, her eyes growing misty.
“Alive and well, I am happy to say.”
“Thank God !”
And they, entering the parlors of the St. Charles
Hotel, an ethereal creature in white muslin and big
blue sash and well-flounced skirt, after the extreme
fashion of that day, tripping from the verandah through
its rrowd of Creole exquisites, says excitedly : ''Carlos
mio, run and catch Sharpe Hampton! I saw him on
the sidewalk below then pauses, for Estrella has taken
her in her arms, and is whispering : “Sister I”
“Sybil, my dear,” remarks Pelham, “you have for-
gotten the etiquette I’ve been teaching you. Mrs. Pel-
ham, permit me to introduce Captain Sharpe Hamp-
ton.”
“Oh, yes, Dios mio, Carlos, a gentleman — ^my bro-
ther-in-law— in America, what shall I do, kiss him?”
“Of course,” says Hampton, promptly; and Estrella
laughs as she sees her husband get his first kiss from
Carmelita.
"Jesus Maria, I was trying to kiss him for four years,
and now, por Dios, it doesn’t seem very muCh,” laughs
Carmelita. "Carlos mio has a longer moustache !”
But after a moment, the two gentlemen, as is usual
in such cases in the Southwest, go down to liquor to the
bar, leaving the ladies together. To her sister, in the
course of their chat, Estrella says : “Sybil, how do you
get along in civilization?”
" Esplendido ! I am studying society under my hus-
band’s tuition,” remarks Carmelita, in fine-lady lan-
guor; then breaks out vivaciously: "Caspita, already
I am the best-dressed woman in the American Army.
I get along magnidco — everything except wearing
THE SPY COMPANY.
295
stockings, and, caramba, they’re the very dickens!
But supposing you tell me about my little nephew.”
“I’ll show him to you,” answers Estrella, in mother’s
pride. And Zelma being summoned, she says : “Bring
down Crittenden.”
“Crittenden? Oh — ah, Crittenden, the little cigar-
ette-smoking Bravo of The Spy Company.”
“Yes, we named our child after the boy who died be-
cause ‘Sharpe looked so cursed happy,’ ” murmurs Es-
trella, her eyes going far away and seeing the sun-burnt
plaza, the smoke drifting from the musketry in the
church and The Spy Company lining that cactus-cov-
ered convent wall and fighting and dying that she
might be happy.
FINIS.
OPINlfONS OF
THE GREAT NOVEL,
Mr. Barnes
of New York.
ENGLAND^
^ There is no reason for surprise at ‘Mr. Barnes*
being a Mg hit'* — The Referee, London, March 25th.
^'Exciting and tnferesRng,** — The Graphic,
“ ‘Marina Paoli’ — a giant character— just as strong
as ‘ Fedora.* ** — Illustrated London News,
“A capital story — most people have read it— I
recommend it to all the others.”
—James Payne in Illustrated lAmdo^i N m>%
AMERICA,
“Told with the genius of Alexander Dumas, the
Eider ” — Amusement Gazette
“Have you read Mr Barnes of New York ? ’ If
no, go and read it at once, and thank me for suggesting
it. ... I want to be put on record as saying ‘ it is
the best story of the day — the best 1 have read in ten
years.*** — ^Joe Howard in Boston Globe,
But at that time Mr. Howard had
not read
“Mr. Potter of Texas.**
Baron Montez
of Panama and Paris.
A NOVEL.
BY
ARCHIBALD CLAVERING GUNTER,
AUTHOR OF
•*Mr, Baraes of New York,” “ Mr. Potter of Texas,” etc.
“ Here, certainly, is a rattling story.”
— N, K Times, June 5th, 1893.
"Mr. Gunter has written nothing better than the
volume before us, and that is high praise indeed, for
his writings in recent years have had a world wide
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" With the merit of continuous and thrilling interest.”
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" The latest of Mr. Gunter’s popular romances will be
read with interest by the many who have already followed
the fortunes of ‘ Mr. Barnes of New York,’ and ‘ Mr.
Potter of Texas.’ ”
— The Times, Philadelphia, Pa., May 20, 1893.
" This is a story of thrilling interest.”
— Christian Leader, Cincinnati, June 6, 1893.
ANOTHER GREAT SUCCESS,
Miss Nobody
of Nowhere.
BY
ARCHIBALD C. GUNTER.
Full of incident and excite**ent.” — New York Herald,
“The popularity of Mr. GunUi: will now be greatcf
than ever.** — Tacoma Globe,
“A story that will keey a man away
from his meals.” — Omaha Btt.
There is not a dull page in this volunx.'*
'—Daily Chronicle y London, Ifan. 14, 18914
“ Gunter scores another success.”
—Morning Advertiser y London, Dec t6, 1890.
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“Nothing could exceed its thrilling interest.”
— Glasgow Heraldy Dec. 25, 1890.
“Gunter’s latest remarkable story will not disappoint
Ilk numerous admirers.’*
— Newcastle ChronicUy Dec, 4, 1890^
aijiitnnr it ^ortalio
Archibald Clavering Gunter
“Rattling good reading.” — Mail and Express, New York.
“As full of action as an egg is full of meat, and yet its action is as natural and well
sustained as it is spirited and exciting.” — New York World.
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scenes of the Revolution of 1848. * * * The graphic pictures of this historic epoch
are vividly drawn. * ♦ * The story will be welcomed by those who enjoy an exciting
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Philadelphia, Pa
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story, dealing with the escape and hounding by French officers of the lovely fugitive,
her metamorphosis, her capture of the tenor patriot Da Messina, her heroically dramatic
leadership of the Milan revolt, her narrow escape from death, and an exceedingly pretty
ending to it all, which must be read to be at all appreciated.” — The Boston Globe.
Paper, 50 Cents
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OR
The First of the English
A NOVEL
Showing how, years ago, England handled the question
of Spanish barbarity in a neighboring province, similar
to the Cuban one that the United States has solved
to-day.
BY —
Archibald Clavering Gunter
AUTHOR OF
Mr. Barnes of New York, Etc. Etc.
“ One of his cleverest stories." — Brooklyn EagUyMarch 2,i8gs.
'* A vivid and dashing sort of historical romance." — San
Francisco Chronicle^ March ly, i8gy.
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"^eady in February
The Golden Rapids
of Hi^h Life
A ffOVBI.
By
Col. RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE
^yiuihor of "My Officio.! Wife," **Af\ Exile from
London, Etc.
Nothing exceeds the glitter of our modern social
whirl ! The United States are rapidly reaching the
Augustan age of Rome, where that which was “mud
and brick” was replaced by “gold and marble ! ” The diplo-
matic and social life of America has its swirling rapids of
Golden High Life in which the strong swimmer goes down,
without a last bubbling cry. This intense novel portrays the
theatre of the over nervous social life of to-day, the heartless
yet intelligent circle, which is a warning of some grave disaster,
yet to come ! The thrilling epochs of the last four years are
herein depicted by a master hand. There are currents and
counter currents in our national and municipal life which are
not discerned save by those who are admitted to the inner
circles.
The secrets of the last few years are frankly unveiled. We
can see where the “Ship of State” has lumbered along past
reefs, bars and rocks ; any one of which would have caused a
national disaster, had the worst come to the worst. There is
a lively human interest, a deep sincerity, and a prophetic patriotism
in every page of this brilliant story, in which love and adven-
ture, state-craft and pride, are mingled with a dexterous touch.
doth, ^1,25 IPaper, 50 centos
For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
The Home Publishing Company
3 East Fourteenth Street, New York
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